Shriek
by Callianassa
Summary: After one messed-up night, Tig is court-ordered to see a therapist and there's no getting out of it, however hard he tries... What secrets from his past will be revealed?
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note**

 **Hi and welcome! I'm missing writing Tig too much, so this fic is based on Tig in therapy. There will be club stuff, but it will start with exploring his character with a shrink - it's going to be fun, but hopefully it'll get quite nice and deep. Plus there'll be some trouble, because there always is.**

 **Please do let me know what you think - I love your thoughts and feedback, so I'd be really grateful for that as I develop this! Enjoy.**

 **Sara x**

* * *

"This is bullshit."

Tig Trager let out a monstrous growl as he was manhandled back out of the courtroom, his wrists bound tightly behind him in thick metal cuffs. Lowen sighed as she exchanged a look with Clay, who was behind her in an instant, demanding an explanation.

"You didn't get time, that's all that matters," Lowen snapped as they were ushered into a small, sticky little waiting room while a police officer set about undoing the lock on the cuffs. Tig snatched his hands away as soon as he could, rubbing the sore spots on his skin from the abrasive metal, and Clay crossed his arms as he leaned on the edge of the desk.

"He didn't do it," he muttered. Tig's lip curled into a smirk and Lowen rolled her eyes.

"What he did or didn't do doesn't matter, it's what they think he did," she said, jabbing her finger back towards the judge's room. Tig stetched his arm out behind his back as he hopped up onto the table, swinging his legs like a petulant child as he sulked.

"But I don't have that kind of cash," he pouted, looking at Clay with those crystal blue eyes. He knew that Clay would help him out, he always did, and, sure as sure could be, Clay instantly patted his knee.

"I got you, brother." He chuckled a little as he wet his lips with his thick tongue. "But the other bit, that's all you."

Tig looked like he was going to have a meltdown. He kicked his foot into the desk panel with annoyance. "What the hell am I going to do with a shrink, huh?" he frowned, a pleading look to Lowen. "You can get me out of that, right? We could send the prospect," he suggested to Clay with a grin. That thought cheered him right up. "Prep him, you know? He can just be me."

Clay snorted at that as he stood up and paced towards the door. " _Nobody_ can be you, Tiggy. Promise you that."

Tig paused to give Lowen a gentle, prickly kiss on the cheek as he murmured his thanks and followed his president out of the holding room. His eyes roamed around the hall as he walked out and he blinked in the bright sunlight as he stepped out onto the court steps. Clay passed him his sunglasses with a grin and motioned to the bikes waiting out front.

"She missed you," he teased, pointing to the Harley as he watched Tig drop down to his knee beside his bike and nuzzle the handle lovingly with his nose.

"And I missed her," he purred, his hands running longingly along the metal. "And now I'm gonna ride her until-"

"You've got an appointment," Lowen called as she skipped down the stairs towards her car. "In an hour. Shriek's office is in Oakland, you better get a move on."

She handed him a printed order as she walked past and gave him a supportive pat on the elbow. Tig groaned, looking at the page in his hand, and wrinkled his nose as he looked up at Clay.

"You sure the prospect can't do this for me?" he pleaded softly. Clay slumped his arm around him, screwing his hair beneath his knuckles like he was a screwy little kid.

"There's some shit we just can't pass the buck on, brother." He looked at the order as Tig lit a cigarette and took a long drag, looking up at the blue sky and enjoying the warmth of the sun on his face after too long in that dingy room in lock-up. "Shriek. I don't know this one. Sounds like a creep."

"They're all creeps," Tig whinnied. "What kind of freak wants to know all about a person anyway?"

Clay laughed at that. "Just play him, it'll be easy. Tell him how Mommy breastfed you 'til you were twenty-one, he'll think he can solve all your problems in, what, ten sessions?" He looked at the order. Ten compulsory sessions, it sounded like hell. "Just keep off the weed, they'll test you here and there. You break this, they'll make you go in." His nose wrinkled. "And black ain't too happy right now, you're not taking that risk, Tiggy, you hear me?"

Tig tipped his Harley slightly as he climbed on, pressing his crotch to the leather to satiate that need to be touched. Clay couldn't help but laugh, if Tig had been alone with the damn thing he'd probably be sprawled naked against it already.

"Don't speed," Clay added with a laugh as Tig fitted the key and the bike roared to life. "Last thing you need today is a fucking ticket."

Tig winked as he pulled away and set off. The ride wasn't too far, not really, not when all he wanted to do was enjoy the feel of the engine sending that rush through him, and he took a lonely, dusty route out. His hands flexed as he accelerated ahead and he took a breath. God, he had to stop cutting shit so fine. High and indecent exposure, it was an easy one to get over but the culmination of stupid things was what would end up putting him behind bars. He knew that.

He finally pulled to a stop outside a small office block. The engine stopped, and he tugged the order from his top pocket, unfolding it to check the address. He wrinkled his nose and looked at the place again, it must have been a set of four or six cosy little offices. The place was quaint, he hated it. It reminded him of the order and restriction of the life he used to live, before the Marines, before SAMCRO. Normality.

"Fucking prick, backward little washed up fuck."

Tig dragged himself up the stairs and buzzed the intercom. Doctor Shriek. He even sounded like a piece of goddamn work. He groaned as the door opened and slunk in, looking suspiciously around at the place as he did. A small little man at a desk smiled at him, pushing his glasses up his nose as he did, and Tig blew the air out between his lips as he looked towered over him.

"Shriek, right?"

The man laughed and motioned for Tig to sit. "No, just a few moments. They're running behind."

Tig threw himself down into a seat and tapped at an invisible watch on his wrist. "That's just not acceptable," he muttered. "That better be coming out of your time, not mine."

His eyes swung around the room, looking at the clean white waiting room. It was simply laid out, everything squarely placed, neat and tidy and eerily perfect. With no sound but the ticking of a single clock, Tig was sure he'd be able to hear the sound of the receptionist's heart beating if he focused.

"You seem nervous. Are you nervous?" Maybe Tig could amuse himself. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and he tried to gaige the receptionist's eye but he was ignored. "This guy, is he expensive?" He pursed his lips, looking around at an overpriced little zen sandpit in the middle of the table. "I mean, company dime but."

The receptionist didn't answer, he didn't even look up, but he sprung to his feet quickly as the door swung open. A terrified-looking hulk of a man scurried out, his eyes red from at least an hour of crying, and Tig watched him go, feeling his heart sink. Great, he was going to be made to talk about memories and bullshit. Just what he fucking needed.

"You can go in now." The receptionist had a little grin on his lips as he gestured to the room. "Good luck."

Tig let out a heavy sigh as he pulled himself up to his feet, his boots thudding the ground as he got up. He puffed out his cheeks and blew the air out as he trudged through to an empty room. There was a desk at the far end, with a long chaise lounge and a relaxer. He hovered for a moment, unsure of where he was meant to sit, and he had just started to lower himself onto the chaise when he heard a door shut behind him.

"Apologies for the delay."

Tig paused, frozen to the spot for a moment. Christ, she was a woman. He hovered, unsure whether to stand or sit down, and Shriek stood looking at him in amusement.

"Are you intending to lay an egg?" she asked, gesturing to his awkward squatting position. Tig snorted derisively, trying to settle his discomfort, and stood quickly. He wondered if he was meant to shake her hand or something, he didn't even know. She didn't seem interested, however, and she crossed to take a couple of bottles of water from the side. She placed one neatly in front of him and then took her seat, immediately taking up a notebook and writing in it. "You can sit for the session if you like, it doesn't cost anything extra."

Her little joke softened him and Tig allowed himself to relax a little. He sat down quickly, perching on the edge, and rubbed his fingers through his hair to try and bring his focus back. He smiled at her but stopped quickly, all too aware that it was probably unspeakably creepy.

"So… yeah." He rubbed his hands together for a moment. "Let's make this easy. "I don't want to be here. You don't want to be here."

"Why wouldn't I want to be here?" She had the tone of an Upper East Side New Yorker, and Tig felt himself backfooted by her question.

"I… uh… figured." Good God, she had the same piercing blue eyes as he did, if not two shades lighter, and she was staring at him as if she could see right into his soul. He was sure his heart was freezing over. Is this how people felt when he looked at them? "It's a job, right? Nobody likes working."

"I like working." Her tone was clipped as she continued to scribble on her notepad and Tig could see that he was going to get nowhere trying to bunk off on this damn session. "Don't you like working?" He shrugged and she looked at something in his file. "What is it you do, Mister Trager?"

Tig smiled a little, he almost wanted to tell her, just to spook her. Gun running. Drug shifting. Bad guy murdering, when it was appropriate. "Work in a garage," he said, sitting back in his seat. He wasn't going to be put out of his stride by this bitch, that wasn't his style. "You know, automotive shop kinda thing. I'm good with my hands."

It was flirtatious, of course it was. Tig hadn't realised he might be able to persuade her attention. He had been so prepared for some boring old bookish type that it was only just beginning to dawn on him that he could probably soften up this uptight little bitch with his usual charm. When she didn't respond, however, he held out his hands, as if that might help make his point. She looked at them with something of a sneer and he shyly withdrew them, hiding his dirty nails away from her.

"You work in Charming?" she asked, her voice betraying how unimpressed she was. Tig shifted a little, suddenly too hot, and he moved to unbutton his collar.

"Great place. Have you been?"

He tried to give her a hopeful smile, desperate to engage with her, but she ignored him, focusing on her notepad. "No."

Tig pinched the bridge of his nose. This was going to be impossible, and he had ten hour-long sessions of this? He rubbed his palms down along his thighs for a moment and finally forced a smile, maybe he needed to approach this another way.

"Neither of us want to do this, Doc," he said. "So why don't we just, you know, sit here. In silence. Let time pass, I've got nothing to say to you and you've got nothing for me. So, end of the session, you can just give me a little prescription for some of the good shit and we can part ways friends. You know?" He licked his lips as he looked over her, pausing to look at her. He could see the curve of her breasts beneath her blouse and her long legs were stretched out, crossed in front of her. "Maybe more than friends…"

She didn't even flinch at his comment and Tig could see this was going to be a hard game to play. He stood up, pacing around the room, feeling locked in and caged by the situation. He hated this.

"We don't have to speak, if you don't want to," Shriek replied, observing him like an insect as he scurried around the room, touching every window and every wall to familiarize himself with the space. "I can tell everything about you I need to, Mister Trager."

That caught his ear. He turned, twisting to look at her. "Oh yeah?" He leaned against the back of the chaise, his thick muscles bulging beneath his shirt as he did. "And what do you know about me, Doc?"

She smiled a little. "Lots of things."

Tig prowled towards her, sure she was bluffing. Even though he was standing over her, she didn't move, nonplussed by him, and he lunged at her, snatching her notebook out of her hand. She stayed entirely still as he flicked through the pages, his eyes roaming over her notes.

 _Uncomfortable. Nervous. Anxious. Peacocking._ His lips curled into a grin as he saw the word she had written in the centre of the page and underlined three times. _Prick._

"Seems about right," he chuckled, flicking the book back towards her, suddenly feeling that they were probably on about the same page. He could tell she wanted to smile but was holding it back, and he sat on the table in front of her, stooping to catch her eye. "How about you and me, we, uh… we can have a little fun, you know? On the clock? Wouldn't that be kinda, I don't know, naughty?"

She drew herself up, bristling slightly. "I don't know how you usually deal with treatment, Mister Trager, but if you want any sort of medication, I can't give you anything if we don't sit down and have a chat." She gestured to the chaise lounge. "So why don't you take a seat, and we can start again?" She tore out the first note page and handed it to him. "You can even keep this, if you like. As a gesture of… trust." She caught his eye, a glimmer flashing through her gaze as she said it. Tig took it and folded it into his pocket, and she nodded, leaning back in her seat.

"Now, where shall we start?"


	2. Chapter 2

She sat waiting patiently, her pen poised perfectly above her notepad as she watched him. Tig had both of his feet planted firmly on the floor, his hands were behind his head as he leaned back, staring up at the ceiling and blowing the air out of his cheeks in a bid to make the time pass faster. He was a timewaster, he always had been. Anything he could to do to make time pass faster, he would.

"Why don't we start with the basics?" Shriek finally suggested, realizing that they would get nowhere if he refused to give her anything. She had a report to file with the DA, if she didn't at least try, she wouldn't get paid. Tig dramatically rolled his eyes at that suggestion.

"What, like, my parents?"

Shriek's lip twitched, it was almost a smile but she didn't quite make it. He was probably finding the notepad intimidating, men like him often did. Men based on instinct, not on information. She closed it and slowly lowered it to the table as if she were being held hostage.

"I meant more like why you are here."

Tig wrung his hands together, his rings clinking as they clashed together with his anxious movement. "Your file not tell you that?" he asked, pointing to the wad of papers sitting in the manila folder in front of her. Shriek tapped it with her finger.

"It would, normally." She gave him an apologetic look. "They emailed it over but your notes were so… copious? We ran out of paper in the office." She gestured to her printer beside her desk, it had been taken apart and Tig grinned as he saw the empty tray. "So I will catch up this week, before our next session. But perhaps you can help me in the first instance."

* * *

 _"_ _Are you serious?" Tig wiped his lips on the back of his hand as he glimpsed at the packet Juice was waving in front of him. "You bought a weed shop?"_

 _"_ _It's an easy place to clean the money," Juice said with a shrug, proudly stroking the front door of his new place as he jimmied the rusty key in the lock. "Plus this whole block's a steal. Mayor keeps telling everyone it's bad business around here."_

 _"_ _Drug dealers and everything," Chibs chuckled as Juice hit the door hard with his shoulder, making it spring open. The shop stank, that was for sure, of damp but the overwhelming stench of marijuana was the one that made them nudge each other with anticipation._

 _Juice motioned for them to follow him in, flipping the packet in his hand towards Tig. "This is just a sample," he said. "I've got a few from the previous owners. It's all, you know, prescription."_

 _Chibs started to rummage through the boxes with curiosity. Prescription dope was the best and they all knew it, that was the strong stuff, the stuff for the chronic pain and general depression. That was the shit that got you through a hard night._

 _"_ _What happened with that croweater?" he asked, glancing over at Tig as Juice dropped down into a beanbag in front of the security camera screen. "Little pocket size thing?"_

 _"_ _Barely legal," Tig murmured. "Just a bit of fun, brother. You know I'm not looking for anything more than that since..."_

 _He trailed off, shaking his head, and Juice and Chibs exchanged a look as Tig picked something at random and started to tap it out onto a roll-up paper. He tapped out the line and slipped a filter from the roll before licking carefully along the edge to bind it._

 _"_ _What is that one?" Juice leaned back, trying to reach the packet off the table. His fingertips just gripped the edge of the pack as he lifted it. "'Green Goblin'? That's some Marvel shit right there." They sniggered, like a group of teenage boys sneaking around, and Tig lit it, taking a long and satisfying drag. He rolled his neck from side to side, feeling the hit even with one taste._

 _"_ _Fuck, man." He smiled dopily, looking at them both with an easy smile. "Last time I smoked something like this was, God, must have been five years ago." His face was relaxing as he grinned, a secret memory filling him with a happy sort of warmth. "Mmm, she was so fucking tight, and…"_

 _Chibs waved his hand, reaching for the joint and taking a toke before passing it on to Juice to try. "What, barely legal?" Tig didn't answer, his eyes were glazed over. He barely even felt Juice put the smoke back in his hands, just took another drag and rubbed his hands over his face. Suddenly he felt the need to get out of there._

 _"_ _I've got to go find her," he said, picking himself up and ruffling his dark curls under his hand. "Share this with her, you know?"_

 _Juice hesitated for a moment. "I don't think-" Tig was already half-way out of the door. "Just, you didn't get that here, okay?" Juice looked at Chibs, wondering if he would collude with his story. Chibs, nodding, hopped up and caught Tig's arm, clapping him on the back in a hug for a moment._

 _"_ _You want me to ride with you?"_

 _Tig pursed his lips and shook his head. "No, I'm good, you guys enjoy." He gestured to the room. "Good… investment, Juicy," he said. "You've got a loyal customer in me, anyway."_

* * *

"Do you often take recreational drugs, Mister Trager?"

Tig scratched at his nose and gave her a wide smile, one he usually reserved for the croweaters serving him beers at the clubhouse. "Of course not."

Shriek gestured around the room. "This is a safe space. You can talk about anything you want to here, my evaluation is not a record of your history, it will be about the best steps going forward."

Tig didn't believe that for a second. "Someone must have swapped my smokes, it was a mistake which I didn't notice, that's all." Shriek stood up now, crossing to her computer to look at something for a moment. She wrinkled her nose a little as she looked at something on the screen and glanced over towards Tig.

"And the indecent exposure? Or did you not notice that, either?"

* * *

 _His hand wound around the rough rope as he closed his eyes. The threads burned his thumb, he could feel them tearing at his skin as he stroked back and forth, back and forth, again and again and again, obsessively rubbing them. He steadied himself, pressing his palm against the tree as he tried to focus his eyes on the swing. The seat was empty but the wind whistling around him made it shift, as if a ghost sat in front of him, rocking in the evening light._

 _"_ _You remember that time?"_

 _Tig giggled to himself in the darkness as he took another drag. God, this shit was good, he'd have to get a tonne more from Juice for another session, that was for sure. He licked his lips as he moved to sit down, resting his forehead against one of the ropes for a moment as he steadied himself._

 _"_ _That time, when it was just us? When it was just right?" He smiled. "Of course you do."_

 _He pushed himself back and held on, allowing the swing to move. The breeze brushing his hair made him laugh to himself, and he flicked the stub of the joint away, finished with it._

 _"_ _Are you hot? I'm too hot." He unbuttoned the top of his dark check button-up before carefully working his way down the rest of the buttons. He took a deep breath as he peeled the flannel from his back, tossing it against the tree. "I always get too hot." A flicker of wind made him whimper as it swirled over his skin, making him shiver with delight, and he started on his pants, reaching for his belt buckle and unlocking it without much of a thought. God, that felt better, the cold air on his skin, cooling his entire body. He wanted to feel that sensation again, he knew what it was. It felt like her touching him, her hands running all over his body. He needed to feel it again, all over him._

* * *

"It's private property." Tig scowled, irritated by the whole scenario. Shriek chuckled.

"You can't expose yourself in a garden overlooked by the neighbors, Mister Trager. Especially not for…" She referred back to the computer screen. "Two and a half hours."

"Sounds like they are the perverts to me," he grumbled with annoyance. "And I was under the influence. It wasn't my fault, it was a series of unfortunate events."

That was exactly what she had expected from him. He was the kind of person to pass the buck, nothing would ever be considered his fault. Tig was one of the world's great blamers, as if he had not one ounce of responsibility for the life he was living. They were all like that, these referrals from around this area. Layabouts who didn't want to admit their part in their own problems.

"Do you own the property?" Tig didn't answer, and Shriek noted to herself that she'd have to ask again at another time. "Look, Mister Trager, we're both trying to get through this as well as we can. Why don't I make you a deal?"

Tig's ears pricked up as he heard the sound of pills. He looked over to see Shriek taking out a bottle of medication from her top drawer, shaking it just enough to spark his interest as she did, and she held it out to him.

"These are some of the best meds available for… well, they're usually for insomniacs." She smiled a little. "But if you're able to sleep, let's just say they give you some of the best dreams imaginable."

He got up and went to collect, but her hand still rested on top of the bottle. "You just gonna tease me, Doc?"

"You can have them." She lifted the bottle and put it in his waiting palm, stopping to catch his eye as she did. "But we make an agreement. You don't need these, we both know that. So this is a gift, but there's only a few. If you come back next week with no kicking and screaming, I'll give you more." She winked. "It can be our little secret."

Tig tossed the bottle up in the air and caught it again, looking at the label across the side. "And what if I grass you up, huh? You could lose your license."

Shriek nodded, all too aware of that but sure of herself. "You take one of those, you won't _want_ me to lose my license. Understand?" She gestured to the clock. "I'm afraid your time is up, Mister Trager. I'll see you next week?"

Tig harrumphed as he slipped the bottle into the inside pocket of his cut. "Maybe." No fucking way, was his real answer. Like he would schlep all the way up to here once a week, and for what? He watched as she ignored him, her work done, and eventually he sloped out of the room, glancing back only once as he exited.

"Stupid fucking shrink," he muttered to himself, bothered as he scratched the back of his head. Somehow, he felt a weight in his heart that bothered him and he looked back up towards the building as he climbed back onto his Harley. His eyes settled on the window of her office and he scratched as his jaw as he looked at it. He tugged out the packet of pills and looked at it one more time, what kind of game was this? He palmed it away again. He'd see how good the trip was, then maybe he'd come back. And, as he started the engine, he kind of hoped they'd do what she promised, just so he could see her again to get rid of this strange feeling sinking into him.

* * *

 **A/N - Thank you so much for the feedback and follows, much appreciated! Ah, Tig, he's just my favourite mess. There's going to be a lot of his backstory in here, most of which we don't know so I hope you'll enjoy my interpretation!**


	3. Chapter 3

Tig lay sprawled across his bed, the sheets twisted around his body, stuck to him with sweat and semen. He wiped his forehead with his arm, a cold, damp feeling all over his skin as he picked up the empty bottle from the cabinet on the side. He shook it, wishing that there was another pill left in there, and sighed as he closed his eyes again. He couldn't believe she had been right. Every night those little pink pills had taken him to the most wonderful place, deep in his dreams and his memories, right to his happiest moments. He whimpered a little as he held the plastic carton to his chest.

Damn it, he would have to go back.

He dragged on his clothes in a hurry, pulling on a faded black vest with his usual pants. He shoved his bare feet into his boots, barely pausing to lace them up, before he reached for his rings and slipped them on one by one. He sniffed, glancing at himself in the mirror for a moment before deciding to splash a little water on his face to freshen up. He sniffed at his armpit and wrinkled his nose, he'd probably be fine.

He drove just a little bit too fast to Oakland, slowing only when he spotted a cop car on the edge of a stretch of desert road. He parked up in the same spot out front, looking at Shriek's office window for any sign of her before legging it up the stairs two at a time. He jabbed at the button a couple of times, whistling while he waited.

"Come on, come on."

The door buzzed and he shoved it open impatiently, roaming into the waiting room with a fresh sense of confidence. The little guy with glasses looked at him, surprised to see him again, but gestured for him to sit down.

"She won't be a moment," he said. Tig waved, he had no intention of sitting down. He hovered, his hand resting on his hip as he stood, and he softened as he heard Shriek step out and call to him.

"Mister Trager."

He grinned at her, and she gestured into her office. Tig almost skipped in and waited for her to shut the door before he held out his hand eagerly. "I need more," he demanded, his eyes piercing her as he stared at her. "Those pills, you have to give me more."

Shriek smiled a little and gestured for him to take a seat, which he did this time. He sat back, making himself comfortable on the chaise, stretching his arm out along the back and kicking his feet up onto the table. She observed him, impressed with how relaxed he was, and took her place.

"How have you slept?"

Tig smiled, rubbing his palms on his legs for a moment. "Good, real good. I've been having… good dreams."

There was something calm in his eyes, like he had found a sort of peace within himself, and Shriek nodded, pleased. This was progress, she was sure of it. "That's good to hear." She looked at him, wondering if he might say something more but, when he didn't, she tapped her finger impatiently on the arm of her seat. "You'll have to give me something, Mister Trager. Tell me what you dreamt about."

* * *

 _"_ _Make love to me."_

 _She was smiling as she shrugged off his work shirt, and Tig couldn't help but stare at her slender body on show to him. With not one ounce of clothing on, his eyes swam over her, devouring her, and he rubbed his thumb over his lip eagerly._

 _"_ _Is that what you want?" he murmured, beckoning to her as he leaned against the kitchen counter. She tiptoed over, totally naked, and ruffled her hair beneath her hand as she pressed herself against him, drawing the dark waves to one side._

 _"_ _You know it is," she murmured. Her breath was hot against his skin as she said it, and her lips brushed against his neck, making every little hair on him stand straight up. Tig let his hand fall down against her, her skin was smooth and soft beneath his palms and he let out a guttural grown as he squeezed her ass._

 _"_ _You know what I want?"_

 _Before she could answer, he had picked her up, tossing her up onto the island counter. He heard her giggle as her skin touched the cold tile and he pressed her legs apart, burying his nose and lips in between her breasts as he kissed down her stomach._

 _"_ _What do you want, Alex?" she whispered. "I'll give you anything you want, you know that."_

* * *

"Nothing, really." He swallowed, feeling his eyes begin to prickle, suddenly wanting to keep the experience to himself. "I just, you know, slept. Felt a little trippy."

Whatever he was concealing had Shriek's interest but she knew better than to press him. She took a breath for a moment and then nodded, seeing him shutting down. He didn't want to talk about that, that was clear. She nipped gently at the end of her pencil for a moment before clearing her throat slightly and pouring herself a glass of water.

"I thought today we could talk about your background," she said, wanting to move on before she lost his attention. She gestured to a couple of thick manila files on her desk. "I had time to familiarize myself with your case over the past week. There was an awful lot of reading to do."

Tig laughed at that. "Do you get paid overtime, Doc?"

"Not really." She unfolded a pair of glasses from her top pocket as she lifted one of the files onto her lap and spread it open. "You grew up in Charming, I see. With your mother, and a series of stepfathers?" She paused, raising her eyes to him to see if he reacted. Tig's expression was fixed on the opposite wall, disinterested. "Did you ever know your father?"

"No." His answer was quick, too quick. Tig leaned down and absently started to polish the front of his boot with the bandana he had tied to his wrist. "He was a prick, I never met the guy."

* * *

 _"_ _Where is he?"_

 _The little boy with the jet black curls jumped as he heard the fierce thump of his father's fist against the door. There it was, that same smell of stale beer that accompanied him every evening he bothered to come back into the house, and Alex dragged himself further beneath the table, shrinking away against the wall in silence._

 _"_ _He's asleep." Kitty was insistent, her voice wavering just slightly as she said it. "You'll disturb him, Gray, leave him be."_

 _Alex held his breath. If he counted to ten, it was usually long enough for his father to give up and leave again, probably delivering another swift clout to his mother on the way out of the room._

 _One._

 _Two._

 _Gray grunted, the thick base of his boots kicking against the wooden floor, narrowly missing Alex's fingers as he curled them shyly out of the way._

 _Three._

 _"_ _Kid's always fucking asleep. What's he good for if I never see him, huh?" There was another thump on the table above him, making Alex shiver as he drew himself into an even tighter little ball._

 _Four._

 _"_ _I swear you never want me to see him, Kit." Alex rubbed at his eye. "You want me to forget what he looks like? That he's nothing fucking like me?"_

 _Five._

 _Alex flinched as she heard Gray grab hold of his mother, wrapping his rough hands around her wrists as he pulled her towards the table. She whinnied softly as he snarled at her, backing her flat to the surface._

 _Six._

 _"_ _Maybe we should make another one right now. That way I can be sure that it's mine."_

 _Seven._

 _The boy put his hands over his ears, it was what Kitty had told him to do when he was frightened. He screwed his eyes closed, rocking a little as he tried to ignore the unwelcome sounds of his mother's refusal and the creaking of the table above his head._

 _Eight._

 _Nine._

 _"_ _Stupid bitch!" Gray's roar was too loud to ignore, Alex blinked his bright blue eyes open beneath the table as he saw his father's legs pinning his mother's apart. He bit down on his lip, wanting to object but knowing he wasn't allowed to. He could see Kitty's fingers curled around the edge of the table and he whimpered breathlessly._

 _Ten._

 _Gray hadn't gone. Alex wished that he had, but he was still there. The man was breathing heavily, swearing as his hips slammed repeatedly against the table and Kitty tried to hide the pain she was feeling. The little boy reached up, keeping himself just out of sight, and his tiny fingers wrapped around the tip of his mother's thumb. He was there for her, to support her however he could, in however small a way he was able. That was how they made it through, every time._

* * *

"Your father never tried to make contact?" There was a dark look in Tig's eyes, the kind of look that usually sent Shriek reaching for the panic button behind her desk but she remained in her place. When he didn't answer, she addressed him again. "Mister Trager?"

"Hmm?" Tig looked at her, shaking away the thought. "Nah. Died, Mom said. Got into a fight he couldn't deal with." He smiled, trying to joke his way through the conversation. "Pussy."

"Do you think fighting is the best way to deal with a problem?" Shriek asked, crossing her legs. Tig gazed at her, looking at her exposed skin and idly wondering what kind of underwear she might be wearing.

"I'm a lover, not a fighter." He motioned to himself and Shriek tapped the file.

"That's not what this says." He shrugged the comment away. "Do you think fighting can solve everything?"

"Most things." Tig crossed his arms. "Isn't it all about who has the bigger stick?"

Shriek laid her hands open, showing him her unguarded body. "I don't have a stick, Mister Trager. We're not fighting, we're talking. There's no need for aggression, everything is open. Isn't that a perfectly fine way to communicate?"

Tig sneered. "How's that working out for you, Doc? You got nothing on me, all you did last time was bribe me with some meds to get me back here." He leaned forward with a wicked grin. "You like me on your couch, lady?" He patted the seat beside him. "You can come join me on it if you want?"

Shriek chuckled and declined politely. "However tempted I might be, Mister Trager," she said with a sarcastic smile, "I'm afraid you're my patient, and until your treatment here is complete…" She shrugged, faux-apologetic, and Tig snorted with laughter.

"Guess we just have to keep talking then, right?" He reached for his packet of cigarettes and tugged one out with his teeth. He went for his lighter when Shriek objected.

"You can't smoke in here, I'm afraid," she said, pointing to a neatly-printed notice on the table. Tig looked at her blankly.

"Either I light up or you blow me, kid, you can make the choice." He paused for a second to let her contemplate before he flicked the wheel of the lighter and watched the flame flare up in front of him. He held the end of the cigarette in it for a deliberate long moment, flouting her rule, and grinned as he took a drag. "You'll bend the rules here and there for little old Tig Trager, right?"

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Thank you so much for the support and follows, guys! I know this is a very different fanfic to most on here but I'm really enjoying writing it, and there's so much to come. So thank you, and I hope you continue to enjoy. I'd love to hear your thoughts as I play out Tig's history - I'm winging it, but I think it makes sense and I hope you like it and see where I'm coming from.**

 **Each of the sessions with Shriek will take two or three chapters, I hope that makes sense. I don't want to overwhelm you! Let me know if it's not enough - or too much.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Just a little note - this is not a very nice chapter, but it will explain quite a lot... You have been warned.**

* * *

"Do you like it when people bend rules for you, Mister Trager?"

The question amused Tig, and he looked over her, tickled by it. "Don't you?" She started to object but he ignored her. "Don't you like it when that hot little barista gives you your coffee for free? Slips you a cookie on the house? That's all bending rules, isn't it? It's the same thing." He chuckled and motioned to her chest. "I bet you've flashed those puppies to get out of a speeding ticket or two in your time."

"I don't drive." She looked at him with a dismissive smile. "I like rules, Mister Trager. I like order, and things to make sense. And I like to help other people understand rules, too." She gestured around the office. "Why do you think I do this?"

Tig was feeling petulant. His mind was buzzing, conflicting emotions from his dreams from the night before and the conversation about his parents bothering him as they surged together in his mind. He pursed his lips.

"I don't know. By the look of you, I'd say it's the power. Because we all like power, whether it's from strength or up here." He leaned across and tapped her temple, amazed that she didn't shrink away from him like he'd hoped she might. "You might be all prissy and dress like an uptight little bitch your little black Armani suits, but underneath all that…" He grinned, running his tongue over his lower lip as he imagined her naked. "You're just like the rest of us. You want to be top dog."

Shriek smiled and began to clap slowly. Each time her hands collided, Tig felt his pride diminishing, as if his great revelation was being peeled away to nothing.

"The thing about you, Mister Trager," she said softly, "is that you've been around your friends too long. In SAMCRO, you might be a big deal, but in the real world?" She shook her head. "You're just like everybody else. Sad. Lonely. Acting out, needing some attention. It's okay," she added, reaching for his hand and resting hers on top of his. "It's okay to need someone."

It was too easy. Tig wrapped his hand around her wrist and grabbed her, dragging her from her seat onto his lap in one swift and hard movement and shoving a prickly kiss onto her mouth. His knee bumped up against her and he smirked as he saw her take a breathless gasp as he brushed against her thighs, his fingers digging into her waist as she scarpered up to get away from him.

"I'm sorry, Doc, I thought you were flirting."

Without a second thought, Shriek turned around and swung a fierce punch at him. Tig growled as her fist collided with his jaw and he grunted as he massaged the spot to check it wasn't broken. Sure that it wasn't, he broke into a wide grin.

"I'll have your licence."

"And I'll have you arrested and sent back to Stockton, where you belong," she snapped, quickly retreating to the far side of her desk to put some space between them. "I'm trying to help you, this isn't for the good of my health, Mister Trager-"

"Tig." She looked at him blankly. "You can call me Tig."

Trying not to show how outwardly frazzled she was by the whole damn experience, Shriek shook her head. "What kind of a name is that?"

* * *

 _"_ _What are you doing?"_

 _Alex sidled up to the little girl on her knees on the floor at the end of the front yard, a suspicious look on his face. She was covered in mud and grease, her hair tied in two messy pigtails on either side of her face. She motioned behind her and he looked over her head to see a little tired-looking bicycle on its side, one of the chains broken clean._

 _"_ _I lost the bit," she sighed, scrambling around, her fingers dragging through the edges of the grass. "Daddy said he'd get me a new one but for now I had to use the bit."_

 _Alex sat down cross-legged beside her, curious. "What kind of bit?" She shrugged, and tried to show him the size and shape with her fingers. He listened to her explanation and tugged at his hair. "Like a pin?"_

 _"_ _I guess so." She looked up at him, frustrated, and rocked back to sit down next to him. Alex leaned across, grabbing onto the wheel of the bike and yanking it towards them. His fingers worked across the broken chain, his thumb testing the snap, and he pursed his lips._

 _"_ _I think I have this one." He scrambled up to his feet and ran back up towards the house. He scrambled through the open window, catapulting himself into the living room towards his box of curiosities, and rummaged through for a moment before tugging out a length of bike-chain he had found at the end of the yard one time. He stretched it out before winding it around his hand and slipping out again, trying to keep quiet as he tiptoed past his father as he snored loudly on the couch._

 _He proudly made his way back down the drive and presented it to the girl. She looked at it with intrigue and he smiled._

 _"_ _Here. You can have it."_

 _He pressed it into her hands with excitement and she wrinkled her nose at the dirty-looking thing. Alex could see the expression on her face, and he scowled a little._

 _"_ _Here, I'll do it. Girls can't do this stuff anyway."_

 _He yanked the bike roughly onto his lap and shoved his hand into his pocket for his pen knife. The girl watched as he unwrapped the original chain and wound it in a spiral by her foot before starting to stretch the new one around the frame._

 _"_ _What's your name?" he asked, hating the awkward silence as she stared at what he was doing. "Do you live around here?"_

 _"_ _I'm Emma." She smiled at him, looking up through little blonde eyelashes as she rubbed her hair away from her face. She pointed to a badge sewn onto the front of her jacket, and Alex nodded, feeling like a total nerd for not even noticing. She poked at the label on his own shirt, a cheap thing Kitty had picked up from the second-hand store. "You're Tig, right?" she asked, reading the brand name off the shirt. He was about to correct her, when Emma smiled and twirled her hair on her fingers. "That's a cool name."_

 _Alex could feel the heat rushing through his eight-year-old ears and he nodded, an easy grin coming over his face as he nodded. "Thanks," he said. "I like it, too."_

* * *

"It was a nickname. From my ex-wife." Tig smiled a little at that. God if he had known how much hassle Emma would have given him after that day, he'd have sent both her and her goddamned bicycle skidding to the curb in an instant. Shriek made a note on the computer and Tig wondered if she was annoyed at him for his little affectionate joke earlier.

"You were married?" she asked, her eyes flicking up to look at him. He nodded.

"Not exactly choice." He rubbed the back of his head, momentarily sheepish. "I, uh, knocked her up. Sixteen. Her Dad, fuck, Roman Catholic military guy, hit the goddamn roof. Held a gun to my head and made me say 'I do', you know?" He chuckled a little. "That was the day I decided to join the Marines, I remember it. Steady paycheck and no nappy-changing duties? It made sense." Shriek was staring at him. "Don't judge me."

"I'm not judging you," she said quickly, holding her hands up. "I've told you before, this place is a-"

"-safe space, yadda yadda." Tig ignored her. "I was a fucking kid. You have no idea what you're doing when you're that age. Locked down? Dawny on the way? I didn't know." The words were beginning to spill out of his mouth, like some switch had been flicked and everything was just pouring out of him. "Fuck, if I'd had any clue, I'd never have… I mean, it would have been different. All of it, if I'd known."

Shriek could see him grinding his rings into his palm as he spoke, getting more anxious and agitated with each word. Christ, this guy was a mess, where the hell was she meant to start pulling all of this apart?

"You're giving me a lot here, Mister Trager," she said calmly. He didn't look up, and she swallowed. "Tig."

Tig froze and stared at her, his eyes linking with hers for just one moment before he blurted out, "I don't like dolls."

* * *

 _The room suddenly plunged into total darkness as the television flicked off, zeroing to a little white dot in the middle of the screen before it disappeared. Alex pulled his knees to his chin and looked up to see Gray standing over him, holding onto a rag doll in his hands._

 _"_ _What the fuck is this?" He wasn't given the opportunity to answer, Gray grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and yanked him to his feet in an instant. "What the_ _ **fuck**_ _is this?"_

 _'_ _It's… it's Emma's," Alex managed to stammer awkwardly, desperately trying to breathe as Gray pushed him up against the wall. "I'm… I promised I'd look after it."_

 _Where was Kitty? Alex could feel his breath getting faster, hyperventilating as his father leaned into him, his face millimeters from his own. "Look after it?" He shoved the doll right into the boy's face, rubbing it against him. "What are you, some kind of fag?"_

 _"_ _No!" Alex squirmed, unable to find his footing as his sneakers kicked against the wall. "I'm just looking after it!"_

 _Gray spat in his face. "You're a pussywhipped fag. Little piece of shit, you're not my boy, that's fucking clear. That mother of yours is a fucking whore."_

 _That was it. Alex screamed, he screamed louder than he even knew he knew how to, and a sudden rage descended over his eyes. His hand lashed forward, his fingernails shredding across his father's face in total outrage, and he kicked furiously as he tried to free himself. Gray simply laughed, allowing him his tantrum._

 _"_ _Go on, you fucking pansy. Fight me." He smacked the boy around the head with the doll, the thump of the heavy sand-filled head colliding with Alex's skull making him laugh. "Show me what you're fucking made of."_

 _And, just like that, he did. With no real awareness of what he was doing, Alex grabbed hold of the lamp from the tableside and, with all of his strength, he slammed it against Gray's head. If the wrought-iron stand hadn't clipped him right on the temple, he would probably have been fine, but the jutting corner slammed into his head and a fountain of blood suddenly spurted over Alex's face as Gray careered down to the ground._

 _He watched as he fell, clamping his hand to his mouth as he did, and he whimpered softly as he saw Emma's doll fall face-first into the blood. The red liquid soaked through the thing in an instant, and Alex felt his stomach cramping before he turned and promptly vomited all over the floor._

 _He didn't know how long he sat there, staring at the cold, dead eyes of his father. He barely even moved until he heard Kitty turn the key in the lock and walk in, humming quietly to herself. She stopped when she heard the unearthly silence in the house, and, the second she walked into the living room, Alex bounded towards her and wrapped his arms around her legs in a flood of tears._

 _"_ _I didn't mean to hurt him," he whispered as Kitty dropped to the floor beside him, wrapping her arms around him. The blood started to soak up through her skirt and Alex started to cry as he saw the dark stains spreading along the material. "Mom, I promise it was an accident."_

 _Kitty nuzzled his hair softly, burying her nose in it as she closed her eyes and took a breath. "Don't you worry, baby," she assured him. "I'll take care of it, I swear."_

* * *

The clock chimed to mark the end of the session and Tig stared at it hatefully. His heart was aching, confused by all of the memories that had flooded him, and he tried to swallow down the sick feeling that was tickling his throat, burning his oesophagus as he sat there.

"Would you like a moment?"

Shriek was sitting at her desk, a sad look on her face as she read the expression in Tig's eyes. He snorted, wiping his nose on the back of his hand, and stood up, eager to get out of there.

"I want more of those meds," he demanded. Shriek nodded slowly, reaching for the top drawer, and Tig beckoned towards it. "A full set. I'll come back," he added, catching her eye with a nod. "I swear, I'll come back. I just… I need those drugs. To sleep," he added with a small smile, knowing that that was what they were really needed for. "Please, Doc. Like you said it. I just don't want to be on my own tonight."

Shriek pulled out a full bottle and gave it to him. Tig wrapped his hand around hers, leading it to his mouth and pushing a kiss onto it gently.

"Do you want to tell me about your dreams?" she asked, allowing his little embrace before withdrawing her hand again, leaving him with the pills he so desperately wanted. Tig shook his head.

"Another time, Doc," he promised, sincerity in his eyes. "Another time."

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Oh my gosh, thank you so much for continuing to read this. This is coming so easily to me, which is weird, but I feel like I really get this character. I think I touched on a lot there and I will work through all of it - Emma, his daughters, the Marines, and the woman in his dreams... I hope you will continue to enjoy!**


	5. Chapter 5

"Hot date?"

Tig looked up from the beer bottle he had nestled in his hand as his finger ran around and around the mouth. Clay gave him an almighty clap across the back and motioned for the prospect to hand him a drink. Tig smoothed his moustache down with his fingers and nodded slowly.

"Getting in your head, brother?" Clay had been careful not to push Tig too much about his sessions, Trager had his own strange way of becoming introverted and lost. "I can talk to someone, I'm sure we can pull a favour, switch you to some new kid?"

"No." Tig said it too fast, even for his own liking, and he forced an uncomfortable smile to try and ease the awkward moment. "I mean, it's fine. She's fine." Clay raised an eyebrow and Tig shrugged. "Just remember she's pussy, right?"

"Exactly."

There was something that bothered Clay about some woman trying to get into Tig's mind. Tig was susceptible to female charms, he always had been, but the concern that some bitch might started fucking with his thoughts instead of his body had Clay concerned. He retained his composure, looking at Tig for a long moment before he necked his beer and put the bottle down with a bang.

"You scare her yet?" He tilted his head to one side as he looked at the wistful look in Tig's eyes. "You want to fuck her, is that it?"

Tig shook his head for a moment and drank the last of his beer, his eyes catching the clock. He should set out. "No, she's good, Prez. Just, you know. Bringing back a few things. Dawny…" He sank his teeth into his lower lip, knowing that the overwhelming urge to cry would come as soon as he started to think about it. "It's all bullshit, I know that. All these questions."

Clay watched as he got up to move, patting himself down for his keys and his packet of cigarettes for the ride. As Tig made a move to go, Clay held him, giving him a hug and kissing his cheek gently.

"I'll take care of you, Tiggy, don't you worry."

Tig didn't think too much about it as he rode out towards Shriek's office. In his quietest moments, his thoughts were overpowering and it almost crippled him when he was alone at home. It was the meds, he was sure of that, they were opening something up inside of him. On the one hand, he hated it. On the other, it was the only way he could get back to her.

* * *

 _"_ _This is where you sleep?"_

 _The hum of the poker game began to subside at the sound of a female voice. Hughes slapped Tig across the back and motioned with his eyes to the approaching figure as she walked alongside the master sergeant, her arm looped into his as she went._

 _"_ _Who is that?" Tig was sure his heart skipped a beat when he saw her. Lightly tanned skin, chocolate brown hair and, goddamn, eyes that were like honey. She wore a conservative-looking belted dress and walked along, her laugh carrying on the evening air as she went._

 _Hughes rubbed his thighs and groaned as he watched her go past. "Don't even think about it," he chuckled, wetting his lips and letting out a low whistle. "Major's kid. Been lined up for that prick Marsden," he added, jamming his thumb towards the master sergeant._

 _Tig abandoned his cards face-up on the table as he stood, trying to get another look at her as they ghosted past the outside of the barracks. He rubbed his hands together, there had to be something he could approach her with. God, anything. He had to look at her. When he suddenly started to walk off, Hughes reached for him._

 _"_ _What the fuck are you doing?" he demanded, motioning for him to sit. "Bank it for tonight, brother, it's what we all do." There were a couple of appreciative murmurs from the others but Tig was adamant. He bounded up and jogged out, following the sound of her voice through the falling light, trying to think what he could say. There must be something, he'd think of something._

 _And suddenly he had caught up with her. The sergeant, Marsden, looked at him with a disapproving sneer but the young woman smiled, squeezing her escort's arm as she separated from him._

 _"_ _I'm… sorry." Tig grinned at her sheepishly, his eyes sparkling in the low light. Without a doubt, he was in love with her. "I don't mean to interrupt." Reading the impatient look in Marsden's eyes, he saluted quickly._

 _"_ _What do you want, Trager?"_

 _Her. He wanted her, without a doubt in his mind. Tig could feel his palms growing sweaty, nervous for the first time in far too long. She was looking at him with a gentle sort of smile, her eyes exploring his face, his dark curls, those blue irises staring at her obsessively._

 _"_ _Please forgive me." Tig swallowed. "Your… your laugh, I heard you laugh. You sounded like my daughter, I had to… I had to see you."_

 _Marsden rolled his eyes, they were off duty but even he knew it was inappropriate. The woman, however, laughed again, the sound washing over Tig and making him want to drown in it._

 _"_ _How old is your daughter?" she asked. Tig smiled, reaching instantly to his pocket and pulling out a photograph. He extended the picture of Dawn to her in an instant, a huge beaming grin plastered across her little face._

 _"_ _Two. Just heard her laugh on my trip home last month." He smiled as the woman's fingers brushed his as she took the photo and turned it to look in the light. She examined it carefully, a look of longing in her eyes._

 _"_ _She's beautiful." She proffered the image towards Marsden. "Isn't she beautiful?"_

 _Marsden barely looked at it, more irritated by the interruption than anything else. "Yeah, gorgeous, Trager. Must have got it from her Mom, huh?"_

 _The woman laughed, giving him a gentle bump with her elbow. "All these surnames. It's so formal." She extended her hand towards Tig with a warm, encouraging expression on her face. "I'm Alexa." She could see him stiffening up, not sure whether to remain formal, and to ease the tension she gave him a Marine salute. Tig chuckled and returned the action before shaking her hand._

 _"_ _I'm Alex. Alex Trager."_

* * *

"You look thoughtful."

Shriek was looking sharper than ever, her stern features only accentuated by the way her hair was pulled back from her face and her fitted suit clung tightly to her. Tig smiled, a happy, dopey kind of smile as he leaned back on the chaise, his hands on the back of his head, his body language open and relaxed.

"I was thinking about her." He was still in his own head, and Shriek watched him curiously.

"Your wife?" Tig's eyes suddenly welled up as she said it and he clicked out of his own private space, suddenly becoming withdrawn as he sank back into the reality of where he was.

"Emma? Nah. Divorced," he said abruptly. "Barely see her. Sent money to her, the kids, when they needed it."

Shriek's lip twitched. "Mechanic job gives you plenty of spare cash for that, does it?" Tig glanced up at her, knowing she was prying for more on the club.

"You a tax fed now?" he joked, trying to remind himself that he had to keep his head on here. "You can follow my finances, Doc, my salary from Teller Morrow goes straight to alimony checks. Save a bit, for a rainy day," he added with a shrug.

"And your other income?" She looked at him squarely and when he didn't answer, she nudged her reading glasses up onto her nose and flicked through his file. "I've been appropriately briefed on you and your club activities, Mister Trager. Sons of Anarchy. The people you call in your town when you need a little… muscle."

Tig chewed on his lip for a moment. "What do you think we are? Some Magic Mike shit?" He laughed at his own joke but she didn't respond. "SAMCRO is a motorcycle club. We like bikes."

She snorted at that. "Group mentality. Like pack animals. Do you know what pack animals do? Hunt. Isolate."

"Tear apart." He flashed his teeth at her as he grinned. "I bet you like that kind of thing. You look like a little minx." She bristled, adjusting her clothing a little. She lifted the panic button on her desk and showed it to him, but Tig waved his hand. "Don't flatter yourself, Doc. I mean, I'd fuck you but prissy bitch doesn't really do it for me."

She laughed, trying to deflect the conversation back onto him. "Right. So what does do it for you?"

* * *

 _Her lips were hot and wet against his as her fingers tangled in his hair, pulling at it as she tugged him closer to her. Tig was doing everything he could not to explode at the sensation of her mouth against his. His hands were beneath her skirt, cupping her ass in his palms as he pressed her up against the wall. She bit his lip sharply and he grunted quietly to try and suppress his desire to bark her name out in the dark._

 _"_ _Lex, fuck…" Her hands were cupping his erection, massaging him over the top of his pants, and Tig was sure he was going to come, even with the thick material between them. All he could feel was the eager way she teased him as her tongue rolled against his hungrily._

 _"_ _I missed you," she whispered into his mouth, almost breathless as she said it. Tig growled softly, he had missed her too, far more than he should have, and his fingers started to stray around to the front of her panties. He wanted to feel her, tease her, damn he wanted nothing more than to be inside her again._

 _"_ _I missed you too, baby." He held her face in his hands, staring straight into her eyes as he connected with her, feeling his soul needing to link to hers in their moment. "I see him touch you and I want to kill him."_

 _She giggled a little and pressed her finger to his lips. "Don't say things like that," she murmured softly, replacing her index with her mouth again before nuzzling his nose gently with her own. "It won't be much longer, I swear."_

* * *

"I like sex." It was a blunt response, he was hiding himself again. Shriek looked at him expectantly and Tig shrugged, grabbing a bottle of water from the table and taking a swig. "What? You gonna shrink me on that?"

"Do you want me to?" She crossed her legs and leaned forward her elbow on her knee. "Is that all you want in life?"

"It's all I need." His answer was short and succinct. She raised an eyebrow and he laughed. "What, Doc? You think I want a relationship? Love?" He scoffed. "I don't need that shit any more."

"Did you love your wife?"

It was exactly the wrong thing to say, Tig hurled the water bottle at her in fury. "Fuck you. You don't know anything about me." Shriek ducked before the thing hit her in the face and stood up quickly, slamming her hands flat on the table top.

"Don't you even think about it, Trager," she snapped. "Now sit down. Three strikes and you're done." He hovered on his feet, trying to catch his breath, his hand resting on his hip. She stared him down and he slowly lowered himself to sit.

"I'm… sorry." He glanced up, catching her eye as she sat down again too. "I'm sorry. You just… you don't understand. There's only one woman I've ever loved, and it wasn't my wife."

* * *

 **A/N - Alex and Alexa, it's going to be quite a ride and I hope you'll enjoy it. How much is Shriek going to get out of him...? I'd love to know your thoughts and feedback, it always helps me :)**


	6. Chapter 6

"Was it your mother?"

Tig couldn't tell if Shriek was joking or not as she asked and he looked up at her to try and work it out. Her face was as serious as ever, he barely ever saw her crack a smile but eventually he chuckled and rubbed his hands together.

"No, it wasn't my mother." He wondered if he should just tell her everything about Alexa. How she had given him everything and taken it all away in the same breath. "What is it about you people and Freudian shit, huh? You always want to pin it on them, do you?"

Shriek shrugged a little as she moved around to sit in the chair closer to him, sure that he had calmed down a little now. "You'd be surprised how many people's problems really do stem from their childhoods." Tig flared his nostrils.

"Bad Mommy, bad Daddy?" He rolled his eyes but Shriek didn't seem bothered by his taunt.

"Abusive Mommy, absent Daddy." She watched his reaction. "Maybe the other way around?" He didn't answer, he didn't even flinch and she shook her head. "Sometimes it's more complex than that. Overbearing parents, relationships that are controlling. Overpowering. Or intimate, in ways they shouldn't be."

That would make sense, she pondered. Tig's bizarre-sounding relationship with women and sex could well stem from inappropriate feelings from – or for – his mother. She waited to see if he might say anything but, when he didn't, gave a gentle push.

"Everybody experiences things in their life that they don't know aren't normal," she said softly. "It's okay if you want to talk about them."

"I'm fine," Tig chuckled. "What, you think my Mom was breastfeeding me to twenty-one or something?" He snorted, getting up and starting to walk around the room, absently picking books up off the shelves and looking at them with disinterest. "I bet you have those creepy kinda weirdos come in here all the time."

"I have lots of weirdos come in here," she said with a teasing smile, easing up a little. "You're no simple case, Tig, I'm sure you're aware of that."

He laughed, twisting towards her. "You wouldn't want me if I was, Doc. I don't think boring is your style, is it?" He wet his lips. "I bet you _like_ the freaks and perverts."

She winked. "Maybe." His eyes lit up. "But we're not talking about me."

Tig moved around to her desk and dropped down in her seat, kicking his feet up onto the desk, his boots landing on top of his file. Shriek cringed, she hated improper papers, she'd only end up printing the whole damn thing again once he'd left.

"Maybe we _should_ talk about you," Tig smiled coyly. "I mean, trust, Doc, you and me." He gestured between them. "If this is ever going to go anywhere, you know?"

She laughed, he was such a sleezeball but she kind of liked how bold he was about it sometimes. "Is that what you want, Mister Trager? This to go somewhere?" He was already licking his lips and she shook her head. "Because I'm afraid it's not."

"Why not?" Tig didn't feel like talking about any more feelings. He wanted to get to know her now he had thought about it. Having a little leverage over the good doctor would only serve him later down the line, he was sure of it. "You married?" He gestured towards her hand, there was no wedding ring there but the slightest of dents where one might once have lived. "Divorced?"

She sighed, he wasn't going to let up. Raising two fingers in the air, she murmured, "Twice. Turns out I just can't live with someone without turning them into another patient."

There was a sadness in her smile that Tig could relate to. He picked up her pen and started to stab it between his fingers as he spread them across the desk. He kept his eyes on his task.

"Mom. She had that. A guy from the hospital, he stuck around for a little while. Thought everything could be medicated. Especially her," he added with a dark chuckle. "God, she was out of it most of the time. He convinced her she had everything under the goddamn sun. Had her shedding out cash for every trip for more pills." His laugh turned into a sneer as he jabbed the pen hard into the table, so hard that the nib made a deep dent and the thing stood upright in the tabletop.

"Did he medicate you?" she asked with concern. Tig smiled deviously.

"Not exactly."

* * *

 _"_ _What are these?"_

 _Tig shook the bottle in his hand as he waved it at Emma with a grin plastered right across his face. They were his prized possession, he had snaffled them from right under that idiot's nose and now, they were his. He wasn't entirely sure what they were, mind. He'd have to look up flunitrazepam later._

 _"_ _Ecstasy or some shit." He smiled, unscrewing the lid and knocking one out onto his hand as they squeezed tighter together on the floor of her treehouse. "We could, you know, get high. It might be fun."_

 _Emma looked at them with a strange mixture of disgust and curiosity. "Isn't that dangerous?"_

 _"_ _One pill a day it says," Tig murmured, reading the label. "Took them straight out of his pocket. He wouldn't carry them around if they weren't safe, would he? Guy's a doctor, he wouldn't risk that." He pushed it into her hand and looked at her, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Take it."_

 _"_ _I'm not going to take it," Emma replied, pushing it back to him but Tig stroked her head gently._

 _"_ _You know I'll take care of you. What better time to try it than with me, huh?" He smiled, tickling her under her chin to try and encourage her. "I heard that it's the most amazing feeling. Like you're flying. Like the colours are dancing in your eyes. Like you're relaxed and falling in love."_

 _She liked the sound of that. Emma had been trying to tell him she'd been in love with him for years. Now, at fourteen, maybe she could sum up the courage to do so. Maybe this magic little pill could fix that._

 _"_ _You'll look after me?" she asked, her expression begging him to promise. He nodded assertively as he handed her a bottle of water._

 _"_ _You know I will."_

* * *

"I didn't know I'd roofied her," he admitted quietly. Shriek was listening in silence, he could barely believe he had just told her that story. "Man, I remember the way she just slumped down in the sunshine. I thought she was playing a game or something. That was when I first realised…" He cut himself off. "Forget it."

"No, go on." She wanted to know. "Realised what?"

Tig pushed his lower lip out. "Me and Emma, we used to fool around, you know? From when we were about twelve." Shriek didn't react but he wrinkled his nose and added, "Don't judge me, Doc. Where I grew up, there wasn't an awful lot of shit to do when you had no money and Mommy was always busy."

She could see what he was trying to say. "Did you sleep with her? Emma, when she was drugged?"

Tig started to fiddle with a stress ball on the table, picking it up and squeezing it flat between his palms. "I thought she was playing around. Like some sexy foreplay thing." He laughed at his younger self, shaking his head. "I kinda liked how still she was. The way she just… lay there. It felt good."

Shriek felt a nausea wash over her, there was something he was confessing that he clearly wasn't going to vocalise. Unfortunately, she was already sure she knew what it was, she had read the notes in his files, the uncomfortable jokes he made about necrophilia in his interviews at Stockton.

"I'm not a freak."

Tig was suddenly in her face, she had barely even noticed him move but somehow he had got right in front of her. She pressed him back, wanting some space from him, and shook her head.

"I'm not here to judge you, Tig."

"Just to assess me, right?" He chuckled. "Well I'm not. So there."

It was with relief that he heard the bell go to mark the end of their session and he waited by the desk patiently, waiting for her to give him more medication. When she didn't move, he whimpered a little to get her attention. Shriek stood up at her own pace, determined not to let him think he had the upper hand.

"Are you expecting something?"

"Come on, Doc," he said, his eyes welling up. "You know what I need."

"What do you see?" she asked, tilting her head to one side as she wrote out another little prescription and handed it to him as she unlocked the drawer and reached for another bottle. "It must be pretty good, if you're that desperate to keep coming back here."

Tig smiled to himself. He saw Alexa, he saw himself with Alexa. He could feel her hands all over him, taste her, feel her sweat dripping on him as he fucked her in his mind, again and again and again. "It's hard to explain." His smile dissolved when he realised she hadn't given him the pill bottle.

"You should try," she said sharply. "Because I can't keep giving you these if we're not making progress."

"We are," he said quickly. "I see my Lex, that's all."

As she parsed the sentence, he snatched the bottle away and headed towards the door. Shriek tutted at him, irritated, but let him go and he winked as he slipped out, waving to her as he tucked the meds away again. God, he was going to get home, take one and knock himself out with her memories all over again.

As he straddled his bike, he watched with surprise as he spotted Shriek leaving her office. Usually she remained there until after he had gone, but this time, she hurried out, walking over to her bicycle and unlocking it. He pulled a face, realising she hadn't noticed he was still there, and he waited in silence for her to ride off before he started his engine. Pursing his lips, he thought for a moment before laughing to himself.

"Wait up for me, baby," he murmured as the Harley purred beneath him. "I just got to do some homework first."


	7. Chapter 7

Tig sloped into the room with a little smirk playing on his lips. Shriek looked up momentarily, usually she had to encourage him to sit but he settled in an instant, watching her steadily. She gestured to the coffee pot in her hand and he waved his hand to pass, a simple shrug.

"No thanks, Doc," he said. "I got myself a great little latte from this place up near Cranford Creek."

He watched as she suddenly became icy, and he grinned with glee at making her uncomfortable. He had spent all week scouting her out after that first evening following her home. He knew her address, her routine, her timings... and he simply couldn't wait to make sure she knew.

"Cranford Creek, huh?" He could see she was nervous and he nodded, acting casual.

"Oh, yeah. You go up that way?" She didn't answer. "Nancy's, this place was called. Had a nice little chat with this old lady that owns the joint, she's been there for fifty years." Shriek swallowed. The thought of Tig going anywhere near her family and her life made her feel sick. She tried to keep her tongue but she was already sure that her face was betraying her.

"That's kind of out of your way from Charming. Long way for a coffee."

She settled in her seat but Tig's eyes were studying her intensely. He rubbed his fingertip over his lips before murmuring, "I don't know. Regular custom always recommends, know what I mean?"

She had to try and ignore it. Picking up his file from the rack, she lifted it. She had to ignore him, he was baiting her but she didn't want to give him the damn satisfaction. "I thought we could pick up where we left off last time-"

"You're divorced, right?"

Tig had every intention of running today's meeting. He hated the way this woman had managed to get him talking about his past, reminiscing about Emma and Dawn and Alexa. After a long few nights of dreaming, he had decided that he no longer wanted to share any more of that information.

"Twice. You know that." She didn't bother to look up. "So I thought-"

"That's a big house," he teased, keeping his eyes on her like a piece of prey, just waiting for her to react. "For you on your own, rattling around in that place. The picket fence, yard? Love seat?" He licked his lips. "It's such a waste on your own."

That was it, she looked up in rage. "You came to my house?" Tig swung his legs like a naughty kid as Shriek clamped her hands on either side of her head. Goddamn it, she was compromised in far too many ways. She would have to report it, she'd be removed from his case and he could be added to someone else's list. He'd have to be.

"Oh come on, you're flattered." He grinned proudly. "Don't get too excited, Doc, I do it all the time."

* * *

 _"_ _Evening, miss."_

 _He had spent every free second watching her every move, and it was finally going to pay off, Tig was sure of it. Alexa raised an eyebrow as she saw him leaning against the wall around the back of the barracks, an unlit cigarette locked between his lips. She started to retreat but he stepped into the light and she paused._

 _"_ _Alex." She smiled, raising an eyebrow as she recognised him. "You should be in bed, surely?"_

 _Of course he should. That first night he had set eyes on her, though, he had made it his business to know her every movement. She had been on site for a few days, now, here and there, but every time she stayed over, her routine was the same. A two a.m. smoke, out the back of the barracks, while Marsden snored, exhausted by whatever he did that made her moan so softly in his private sleeping quarters._

 _"_ _May I?" He gestured with his lighter and she blushed a little in the lamp light, tapping a cigarette out of the slim box clutched in her hand. Tig took it, lighting it carefully before putting it between her delicate lips. He took a silent breath as he watched her fingers clasp it._

 _Seeing him studying her so carefully, Alexa coloured a little. "I don't mean to. It's my one vice." She lifted the cigarette a little as she exhaled. "Joey hates it, he always has. He doesn't even know I still do."_

 _Tig winked. "Secret's safe with me, ma'am." She smiled at that, scrunching her hair beneath her hand. Tig hadn't noticed before, it was big and messy, he was sure she must be freshly fucked. Suddenly, he was so sure he could smell the scent of sex on her skin, and he felt himself shiver._

 _"_ _Too much of this formality, I told you," she chuckled. "Lex, please. Alexa's so… frigid." She leaned her head against the wall, exposing her neck and one bare shoulder. Tig could see her nipple pushing through her shirt in the evening air. "You know you're the only man here to ever speak to me? Apart from Joey and my Dad?"_

 _Tig felt a warmth surge through his chest at that, a weird sort of pride. "Well I'm honoured," he said, mirroring her action and taking the same leaning pose against the wall. She seemed to be so relaxed in his presence, he was sure she must like him just as much as he did her. He just had a feeling._

 _The two stood in silence with each other, both unsure of what to say as they dragged their way through each of their cigarettes. What could he say, should he say? He'd been planning this for the next time she was here but suddenly, everything he had engineered to say disappeared from his mind and he was left, blank._

 _He panicked as his smoke came to an end and, awkwardly, he pushed his hand in his pocket. Swinging his hips out, he shrugged bashfully._

 _"_ _Better go in, I guess."_

 _He started to move but Alexa reached for him, touching his elbow. "Stay," she asked quietly, a guilty little smile on her lips. "Keep me company. We can share one more." She took another from the box and handed it to him, and Tig's face broke into a smile._

 _"_ _My Mom always said you shouldn't be with a person you can't share your secrets with," he teased. Seeing her expression change, he started to feel a little bad when she replied,_

 _"_ _I agree. But some things aren't always in your control."_

* * *

"At least I know not to take it too personally," Shriek snapped. "I don't know why you…" She shook her head. "I thought we were making headway with you."

Tig rolled his eyes, running his hand through his curls. God, she sounded like some whiny girlfriend. "What, you want this to be an exclusive relationship, Doc? Because I can't really do that, I'm not the tying-down type."

"You're an unthinking, unpredictable asshole, that's what you are."

She shut his file and stood, clicking across to her desk in her high heels as she faced her computer. Tig watched, surprised by her sharpness.

"What's wrong with you?" He chuckled. "Is Lady Flo in town?"

His little quip only served to annoy her even further. Shriek had been so far she had been getting somewhere with Alexander Trager's file. Everybody had warned her that it wasn't worth taking on, that the reading wasn't worth investing in, that he wasn't worth bothering with. She hated that they had been right, that she'd have to give up.

"As of next week, you'll be assigned to Doctor Miles," she said, ignoring him as she started to tap away on the keyboard. "He's a specialist in-"

Tig looked up quickly. "Wait, what?" He took to his feet. "What do you mean I'm being 'assigned'? I'm your patient." He suddenly panicked. "We have an arrangement, Doc, you and me, and it's good and I like it."

"And you sacrificed it!" Shriek replied sharply. "By following me to my home, by compromising my personal data. Because, what, you thought it was funny? Or you're some sort of weird controlling creep?"

Tig took that as an insult. If anything, he had simply been interested in her. A bit of information always helped to give him the upper hand, sure, but it had never been his intention to really get under her skin like this.

"Doc. I'm sorry." His eyes opened up wide, afraid. He strode to her desk and leaned on the opposite side, staring at her with a pleading expression. "I was just, I don't know, acting out. I'm like that, you know that." He gave her a lopsided grin but she wasn't looking at him, and he knew he had to give her something more, something she would appreciate.

He reached for her hand but she snatched it away, staring him down coldly. Tig swallowed, strangely nervous, and withdrew his attempt at connection with her. He pushed his hands through his hair again, suddenly conscious that his palms were sweating, and withdrew a few steps before dropping back down onto the couch.

"Lex was the one."

He looked over to see if she was listening. Her fingers had stilled over the keyboard, hovering, not daring to make a sound in case it distracted him from what he was about to say to her.

"She was meant to marry my master sergeant, at my base." He laughed to himself, rubbing his hands together as he did slowly, uncomfortably. "Joseph P. Marsden, the biggest fucking asshole on this planet. It was some sort of betrothal, from when they were sixteen. High school sweethearts, grew up in the same town, that kinda shit. Both of their Dads were in the army, they were promised or something." His eyes flicked across her again, she was looking at him with intrigue. "I got in the way, though. I didn't mean to. I just… I couldn't stop myself."

* * *

 _"_ _We should stop meeting like this."_

 _Lex shook her head as she saw Tig already waiting on the corner. He reached for her hand, tugging her out of sight as she approached and whisking her up, propping her on the top of a barrel and lighting a cigarette he then pushed into her mouth._

 _"_ _I know you wait up for me," she said, her voice a warm whisper in his ear as she leaned down to put the cigarette to his mouth to drag. "This isn't exactly coincidence, Alex."_

 _He gave her a look, feigning innocence as he blew the smoke out of his mouth at an angle away from both of their faces. "What, you suggesting I'm some kinda bad boy, huh?" She gave him a thump._

 _"_ _You know you are." She gestured for a toke and he held it for her. "Before you, it was just a guilty cigarette and now-" She closed her eyes, feeling his fingernails dragging gently down the inside of her calf, and her breath caught in her throat at the intimate way he touched her. Often it was a little nudge or a hand-hold, occasionally a little 'accidental' brush that sent electrical impulses through her and left her with fantasies that played in her mind._

 _"_ _And now?" His voice was a low and dangerous growl, barely audible to anyone but her. Her golden eyes flicked up towards him, trying to retain some sense of innocence, but Tig leaned into her, pushing his lips eagerly to hers. He expected some sort of smack, it was an outrageous move but he whimpered as he suddenly felt her arms around his neck, dragging him closer as they embraced in the darkness._

 _She let go of him, her breathing faster and more confused as she tried to think of an answer. Tig stared at her, the cigarette burning away between his fingers as he waited for her to punch him, or scream, or, God only knew, accuse him of something. Instead, she pinched the bridge of her nose and murmured,_

 _"_ _And now you're going to ruin everything I ever thought I knew."_

* * *

 **A/N - Is anyone else getting the impression Shriek is having a hard time keeping it professional with our old Tig? Even though she doesn't get to hear a lot of his past, she is clearly beginning to understand him and his messed-up little mind. Is she developing a little too much of a soft spot for him? ;)**


	8. Chapter 8

"It took a long time. To get it right." Tig smiled to himself as he thought about it. The coded messages, agreed in advance, left hidden all over the barracks. She'd make sure he knew about every visit, every chance they might have. "We would meet whenever she came back. Cigarette or two. Maybe a drink," he added, chuckling.

"What about her fiancé?" Shriek ventured. The curls at the corners of his lips dropped, something flicking through his mind and making him suddenly angry.

"We carried on behind his back. Prick didn't deserve any better." She looked at him with intrigue and Tig snorted. "Oh come on, Doc. Like you've never fooled around on someone." She didn't answer but he was sure her eyes were burning holes into him. Uncomfortable, he pulled a face. "She was unhappy anyway," he added, as if that excused the behaviour.

"And you?" Shriek crossed her arms, absently scratching at her wrist as she stared at him. "Were you unhappy? With Emma? Or were you just bored away from home?"

"I never wanted to marry Emma, I told you that." Tig's eyes narrowed, feeling attacked by her direct intrusions. "Dawn was an accident, I got tied in. I didn't even know about Fawn until-"

He stopped himself, feeling his temper rising and knowing he needed to cool it down again. Talking about Alexa was somehow cathartic, he could feel himself relaxing again as he thought of her and he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath just like she used to when she needed to reorder her thoughts and try again.

"Fawn was a... surprise." He smiled sheepishly. "From when I'd been home to see Dawn. I didn't even know Emma was pregnant again when I left to go back to the post. I figured it would be easy to just walk away. I would have given her money - alimony, child support, whatever she needed for Dawn. But then there were two of them, my finances were stretched. It all got a lot harder. But." Again, he smiled and closed his eyes. "Lex, she made it all worthwhile."

Shriek was sitting forward, listening to every word, falling in love with his story. It seemed to make so much sense, all his mental mess clearly stemmed from this woman. Just her name seemed to engulf him in a sort of peace that had been impossible to access when he was playing the big man. Her judgment suddenly seemed so much easier, she had found his soft spot and it was proving easy to make him talk.

"Did she leave him? Marsden?"

Tig paused. "Yeah." His answer was clipped, it seemed to hurt him to say it. "Didn't go down all that well."

* * *

 _She didn't come out that night. He waited, five minutes passed, ten. Half an hour. He was sure he had read the message right, she had worn that green dress at lunch, the one that told him that she would be there. And so he waited, the cold swimming around him as he stood out in his sweatpants and a vest. They usually didn't get too long together, just enough time for a few kisses as their hands wandered over each other, but it was enough. Enough to hold him until next time._

 _Wrinkling his nose, fearful that he had been snubbed, Tig flicked away the last of his last cigarette and stomped across the grounds towards Marsden's quarters. They were locked off as usual, and Hughes was standing guard. Hughes looked at him with a wry chuckle._

 _"She stand you up, bud?"_

 _Hughes and Tig had been friends for far too long. They had both joined on the same day, and had been lodged together since then. When it came to the two of them, there wasn't a secret between them. Tig pushed out his lower lip._

 _"Have you seen her?"_

 _Hughes hesitated and pointed towards Marsden's block. "Heard 'em shrieking at each other about an hour ago. Either the kinky shit or..." He pulled a face. "I can't just let you by, Trager. Orders, he doesn't want to be disturbed."_

 _Tig sniffed, one nostril flaring and, with no notice at all, he swung at Hughes. His fist collided with his friend's face, knocking him flat and out cold in one solid move, and he hissed, shaking his knuckles out, both regretting the move and the impact._

 _"Sorry, bud," he murmured as he stepped over him, heading into the complex and crossing towards the building block. Tig sidled along the wall panels towards Marsden's block, silent and unnoticeable. He was too good at this, it was what the Marines had trained him for but he was a natural after years of sneaking around._

 _He kept his head low as he reached the building and disappeared into the shadows as he heard the raised voices._

 _"Who is it?" That was Marsden, without a doubt, and he sounded pissed. "Have the fucking decency to tell me, Alexa, or I swear to God..."_

 _She didn't answer and Tig swallowed. He was desperate to crack the door open, take a look, these buildings had no windows or he'd already be pressed up against the glass to try and sneak a look. He could hear Marsden's boots thumping as he paced back and forth._

 _"Is it that guy? From the police department?" There was a neediness in the guy's voice that Tig had never heard before. He sounded desperate._

 _"Nick?" There she was, he could hear Lex's exasperated sigh. She sounded strong, in control, and fed up. "No, Joe, it's not. Look, just calm down."_

 _"Calm down?" He sounded far from calm. "Calm down? You tell me you've been fucking around and you want me to_ _ **calm down?**_ _"_

 _"Hey!" She sounded irritated now. "Don't be so goddamn crass, Joe."_

 _Tig cringed as he heard a glass smash against the wall above his head. "Crass? You know what's crass? The woman I'm meant to marry screwing around with some other…" He stopped suddenly. "Did you fuck him?"_

 _There was a deathly silence between them and Tig could hear his heart beating in his ears. Shit, this guy was going to lose his mind, he was sure of it. Alexa didn't dignify him with an answer, but Marsden wasn't giving up so easily_

 _"_ _Did you? Did you fuck him?" He moved fast, crossing the room, and Tig pressed his ear harder to the side of the building. She didn't answer, and he started to laugh. "You can't even say it, can you? How'd he do it, huh? Where? At home? In my bed?_ _ **Our bed?**_ _"_

 _He could feel she was becoming tighter, angrier. "Don't you speak to me like that, Joey, don't you goddamn dare."_

 _"_ _What? Like a whore?" Tig grimaced as he heard a chair overturn and Marsden stalking around the room. Alexa yelped as he grabbed her roughly. She swore and Tig could hear her spitting in his face as she scrabbled against him, cursing._

 _"_ _Get the hell off me, Joe."_

 _From the prolonged sound of struggling, it became clear that he had no intention of getting off her. Tig growled as he heard Marsden's hand colliding with her and it was all he could bear. Without thinking, he leapt up the steps towards door and slammed it open with the base of his foot._

 _Before he could even speak, Lex took Marsden's second of distraction and slapped him hard and slammed her elbow into his nose, breaking it clean as she fought back against him. Marsden staggered backwards, surprised at her action, and fell into Tig, who instantly pinioned his arms and held them tight._

 _"_ _Alex." Her eyes were wide with both surprise and fear, and Marsden scrabbled to his feet as Tig pushed past him to hold her. She leaned into him, her head in his shoulder, and Marsden sneered in disgust._

 _"_ _Trager?" He looked up and down Tig, sizing him up and shaking his head. He stared at Alexa. "You want this piece of white trash over me?"_

 _"_ _Hey hey hey!" Tig shielded her with his body as Marsden surged forward, trying to get at her, determined to knock some sense in her. "Hands off, you piece of shit."_

 _"_ _Me?"_

 _Marsden lost it. He grabbed Tig by one arm and hurled him at the wall. Tig roared as his forearm dragged against the rough wood and he barked as he turned, flexing his fingers with every intention of tearing this guy a new one. The fight broke out as, with all his might, Marsden shoved Tig down the stairs and out of the cabin._

 _"_ _You nasty, disobedient fucking asshole!"_

 _They landed on top of each other as they scrabbled in the dirt, desperately clawing for the upper hand as they fought. Alexa looked around, pulling her smoking jacket around her tightly as she searched for help, and eventually she swallowed and ran across the yard. Her hand rapped anxiously on the door to the Major's quarters as she turned to look back._

 _After a moment, her father pulled the door back and scowled as he looked at the disorder in front of him. He pushed past her, a dark frown engraved in his face, and stormed across the yard. His bark made a few more doors open, other curious officials looking out at what was happening._

 _Grabbing Tig by the scruff of the neck as he railed blow after blow on Marsden's face, the Major hurled him back against the wall, separating the two in an instant. Marsden, seeing him, pulled himself to his feet quickly and saluted as expected. As the Major turned to Tig, Tig wrinkled his nose, sure it was bleeding, and did the same. Lex, uncertain, tiptoed to Tig's side, taking his hand boldly in her own._

 _"_ _What's the meaning of this, huh?" the Major snapped, turning his eyes on Marsden. "My own daughter waking me in the middle of the goddamn night because of this?"_

 _He started to turn towards Tig for an explanation when Marsden didn't offer him one, and he paused as he saw Alexa's fingers tangled with his. He slowly started to shake his head and Tig expected her to let go but she didn't._

 _"_ _What is this?" The Major's voice roared out, echoing through the entire base. "You come here, right now."_

 _Alexa was mortified. He stood, his finger jabbed at the earth like she was any other soldier, and Tig urged her softly to go, whispering that he was right beside her. And he followed, dutifully, until the Major stopped him in his tracks and stared down his daughter in front of him._

 _"_ _What did she do?" He held her face tightly in his palm, looking from her to Marsden. Marsden blushed a little, not only cuckolded but also embarrassed by the audience of elder Marines who were gathering around them._

 _"_ _It's nothing we can't fix, sir," he said quickly but he knew the damage was done. The Major was barely listening to him as he stared at Alexa, his thumb and forefinger pressing her cheeks uncomfortably hard._

 _"_ _You can never fix disloyalty," he muttered, looking over her and then towards Tig. "And no goddamn daughter of mine would ever be break my trust." He pushed her and hard, shoving her back into Tig. "Get out. Both of you," he added, staring Tig down as he did. "You're dismissed, Trager. Get your shit out of here and take this little slut with you. She's your problem now."_

* * *

"I didn't even know you could get fired from the Marines."

Tig broke his gaze away from the table as he concluded the story and looked at Shriek, who was sitting there with tears in her eyes. He chuckled a little, trying to shake away the overwhelming feeling of sadness that had suddenly dropped onto his shoulders like a weight he couldn't dismiss, and he leaned across to pull a tissue out of the box and passed it to her. She accepted it and he blushed as he pulled a chair up in front of her at her desk.

"I know I'm a pain, Doc, but I swear I'm worth it." He gave her a smile as he leaned his elbow on the desk and tilted his head to one side. "I wouldn't, you know, try and get your father to disown you too though."

Shriek softened at his joke and laughed, dabbing the corner of her eye. "He's dead, so you're okay." Before he could even ask, she handed him the bottle of medication he was becoming so accustomed to and nodded. "I think that's enough for today, Tig. We can pick up next week."

Tig gave her a meek smile. "Are you sure, Doc? I'm sorry, about before. Didn't mean to yank your chain about your place."

"Just stay away from me and my house," she said quietly and patting his hand lightly. "We focus on our sessions, meet here and only here, and it'll all be okay. You're making good progress," she added supportively. Tig beamed, surprised and pleased to receive a little bit of praise.

"Thanks, Doc." He smiled and waved the bottle of pills at her. "For these, too. I'll see you next week."

* * *

 **A/N - Oh, wow, that was so draining to write! Poor Lex and Tig, they made their own bed together to lie in, that's for sure. Hope you enjoyed, please do let me know if there's anything you love - or hate - or want to see more of. I'm loving writing this!**


	9. Chapter 9

"What _are_ these?"

Tig almost hurled himself over the bar as Half Sack picked up the little bottle of pills from beside him. He roared in outrage as she slammed his fist into the little runt in a fit of fury, and Kip gasped for breath as Tig shoved him up against the shelves of the bar.

"Woah, woah, woah!" Jax intercepted quickly, hauling Tig back a few steps to allow Half Sack an escape route. "Calm down, brother, he didn't do anything."

Tig jabbed his finger in the kid's face, a scowl on his brow. "You don't ever, _ever_ touch my shit, or I'll break your fucking arms, you understand me?" Kip nodded, terrified by the outburst, and Tig snorted angrily as he swept the bottle up and put it in his pocket. He slunk into the far corner of the bar and Jax glanced towards Chibs. Chibs opened his mouth and shut it again quickly, knowing what the order was, and he followed Tig as he withdrew himself.

"Tiggy." He pulled up a barstool in front of Tig and straddled it, leaning forward to him. "Aye, what's happened here, hey?" He patted Tig's knee supportively, seeing Tig's eyes were brimming with tears. He pulled a face as he saw Tig's lip push forward and pressed a kiss on his forehead. "Ah, you silly bastard, what's this about?"

"She stopped coming." Tig almost whimpered as he said it, pinching his nose with his fingers. "She just… stopped. She was there every damn night, Chibby, for over a month and now…" He didn't now how to express it, Chibs was clearly clueless to what he was talking about. Shriek's drugs had stopped working, his beautiful dreams of Lex and the past had all come to a grinding halt. He wrinkled his nose, unsure of how to even begin to explain it to Chibs as he stared at him blankly.

"You know there's no shortage of gash around here, right?" Chibs jerked his thumb over his shoulder towards a few motley-looking crow-eaters. "If you need a lay-"

Tig started to shake his head in an instant. "I don't want them." His blue eyes pierced Chibs as he stared at him. "Lex, she's been-"

Chibs didn't even hear what else he had to say. Christ, if he was talking about Lex he must be out of his mind. He patted Tig's knee supportively, not entirely sure what was best to say. "Oh boyo. You can't get into a tiz, not over her, you know that." He gave Tig a grim smile, it wasn't what Tig would want to hear, for sure, but it was the only advice he could give.

Tig could see that he wasn't getting anywhere and he snorted back his runny nose, wiping it on the back of his hand dismissively. "Forget it," he said shortly. Chibs would never understand, there was no point even trying to explain it. The only person who might was Shriek herself.

He jumped up from his seat, wiping his hands on his pants as he ploughed past Chibs and headed towards his bike. Shriek wouldn't mind. This was an emergency, right? He actually _wanted_ to talk this time.

He took the ride out towards Cranford Creek, the little quite town where he had tracked her home. He sped past her office on the way, checking quickly for her bicycle, and then frowned as he pulled to a stop outside her house. The place looked quiet and he groaned as he looked for any sign of her again but she wasn't there.

He frowned, rubbing his hand over his mouth. What did civilians even do on a Saturday? He had no idea. He started to drive around the block before thinking back through her usual daily schedule and remembering the coffee shop.

Nancy's was a pretty little place with a covered porch out front, set on a bank that sloped up away from the main street in the area. Tig's bike looked so out of place in front of it, the dark black Harley sticking out like a sore thumb on the grass verge. A couple of old men glanced up as Tig dismounted, flipping off his sunglasses and slipping them onto the top pocket of his shirt.

"Hi."

One of them chuckled and leaned back in his seat, calling through. "Nance, it's your leathery friend again."

Tig glanced through to the interior of the café to see the old woman he had chatted to last time peering over the bar. She beamed brightly as she saw him and came bustling out. "Welcome back!" she insisted, grabbing his arm and ushering him inside. "Did you drive all the way up from Charming for me?"

Tig softened as she shooed a couple of kids away from the most comfortable seat in the house and cleared the table quickly for him. "You know what? I sure did." He beamed, turning on the Trager charm. "That coffee I had last time?" He kissed his fingers. "Perfection."

Nancy beamed and instantly tapped his knee, pleased. "Let me get you one." She looked over the top of the bar. "Elsie? Do me a latte for the gentleman, love?"

Half expecting an equally battered little old woman to pop up, Tig pursed his lips and looked at Nancy, resting his hand on hers for a moment. He glanced around at the other people sitting around, lounging about with papers and books, looking for Shriek but not spotting her.

"Do you want something to read?" Nancy offered, starting to get up but Tig shook his head quickly.

"No thank you, sweetheart. I'm just looking around." He started to lean forward. "Last time I was in here, there was this girl, beautiful. Blue eyes like the sky on a summer's day." He smiled a little dreamily and Nancy giggled, glancing towards the bar as someone brought over Tig's order. Tig was looking at his hands as she approached and barely looked up until he felt the waitress hesitate uncomfortably before asking,

"Would you like sugar with that, Mister Trager?"

His eyes flicked up and he broke into a grin as he saw Shriek standing there. Gone were the suits, the pencil skirts and perfectly fitted blouses, right now she wore a floaty skirt with a tank top, a scarf wrapped around her neck. Her usually perfect hair was scraped up into a wild ponytail, stray hairs falling around her face as she stood up straight again, her hand on her hip.

Before she could stop her, Nancy took Shriek's hand in her own and squeezed it proudly. "This is my granddaughter Elsie. Elsie, meet… what was it? Tag?"

"Tig," he corrected quickly. He started to his feet, extending his hand. "Nice to meet you, _Elsie._ "

Her grandmother was beaming so proudly at her that Shriek had no choice but to extend her hand in return. Tig grabbed it and twisted it towards him, pushing a flirty kiss onto her knuckles before nipping one gently to tease her when Nancy wasn't looking.

"This is a beautiful place you have here." He hadn't let go of her hand, in fact, he was holding onto it possessively, but Nancy hadn't noticed and was proudly looking around.

"We've been here fifty years now," she chirruped, pointing to a poster on the wall. "We wanted the mayor to come and mark the event but he couldn't get it in his schedule. But we make do," she added, turning her attention back to Shriek just as Tig released his grip on her.

"You must have been barely a child," he winked at Nancy, flattering her in that over-the-top way of his. The old woman loved it and looked at Elsie with a mile-wide smile.

"You're very kind," she chuckled. "This one wasn't even a twinkle in her mother's eye back then and now look at her, a doctor-"

"Serving coffee on the weekend." Tig gave her an obnoxious grin and Shriek glared him down, furious that he had intruded on her personal life yet again. He had never even imagined the family connection she had to this place, but, for some reason, he quite liked seeing her there.

"I think that table needed their cheque," she said quickly. She started to extricate herself from the situation when Nancy stood up and shoved Shriek rather forcefully down into the seat opposite Tig.

"I'll get it. Why don't you entertain our guest for me?"

She shuffled away and Shriek rubbed her hand down her face as she watched her go. Her eyes flicked to Tig to see that he was staring at her with an amused smile, taken in by the change of look. She was off duty and relaxed, and somehow it delighted him to see it.

"I thought we were done with this," she snapped sharply, keeping her voice as low as possible. "This is ridiculous, you shouldn't be here."

"I needed you." His voice was a pathetic whinny, he hadn't intended it to be but he couldn't stop it coming out once he opened his mouth. "I had to talk to you."

Shriek shook her head. "Then make an appointment. You have one in three days, you couldn't wait?" He didn't answer, looking forlornly down at his coffee and she sighed. "Why, what's happened?"

Tig hunched forward, picking up his coffee and taking a slurp. "Those pills. They stopped working." He glanced up at her to see her smirking at the milk foam on his moustache. "What?"

She picked up a napkin from the table and, without thinking, leaned across to wipe it away. Tig remained motionless, surprised by the action as she drew herself back again and gestured for him to continue.

"She…" He stopped himself, uncertain, and shook his head. What was he doing here, hassling her? Why was she even bothering to entertain him with conversation? "Jesus, Doc, I'm sorry, I didn't know this was Grandma's place, I just figured it was your regular and I might catch you here when you weren't at home."

She didn't interject with her offence at being stalked again, but Tig seemed adamant that he'd overstepped the mark. He dug in his pocket for some money and put it down on the table, getting to his feet quickly and downing the rest of his coffee.

"You know what? We can talk next week, you're right, I'll be fine."

He started to leave when Nancy suddenly blocked his way. "Why are you rushing off?" She looked at Shriek, hurt. "What did you say?" She shook her head, taking Tig's elbow and guiding him back to his table. "I'm sorry, she can be so… direct. She's a doctor, you see. Psychiatrist. She always thinks everyone has a problem." She rolled her eyes dramatically and made Tig sit down again. "Let me get you another drink, on the house, please. Do you like cake? Elsie, go and get him some of that carrot cake."

Shriek looked offended. "He doesn't want carrot cake, Meemaw."

Tig wet his lips with his tongue. "D'you know what? I'd love some carrot cake." He winked at Shriek. "But I'll have it to take home."

It was Nancy's turn to take offence, she crossed her arms stubbornly. "We don't _do_ take home. You'll sit here and eat it." She stomped across the café floor and got him a plate herself, presenting it on the table in front of him. With a small smile, she put two forks down in front of them and declared, "You're on a break now, Elsie. Just be polite to the nice man for twenty damned minutes, okay?"

* * *

A/N Grandmas are the best, right? Hope you enjoyed, let me know your thoughts! :) The constant favourites are so awesome, I really appreciate it and it keeps me motivated! x


	10. Chapter 10

Shriek sulked as she slunk down into the seat and petulantly took the fork in her hand. Pulling off a chunk of the cream frosting, she shoved it straight in her mouth and her face relaxed a little as the sugar hit her. Tig watched her for a moment and she shrugged. "What? It's good cake."

It seemed so... civilian. "I never really eat cake." Any more. It had always been Lex's favourite thing. Cake and coffee, every Saturday morning when she got back from her run. Like clockwork. He pulled a face, the memory tasted bitter on his tongue. Shriek didn't notice as she went for more.

"Big bad biker scared of a few calories?"

Tig felt his cheeks flush red. "I'm scared of a lot of things, actually."

Shriek glanced up to see if he was joking but could see he wasn't. She finished her mouthful and murmured, "Like what?"

* * *

 _"Don't be such a fraidycat."_

 _Tig watched uncertainly as Lex put her foot on the swing and hoisted herself up. One hand wound around the rope and she giggled as the seat rocked wildly, and Tig launched forward to grab her and stop her from falling. His rough fingertips grazed her hip bone and she murmured contently as her eyes tried to focus on him._

 _"I'm not scared," he said stubbornly, looking up at the tree. "I just think you're too high."_

 _She wasn't listening and she looked up at the twisted branches above her head. "It's not_ _ **that**_ _high," she chuckled. Without warning, she jumped one foot up onto his shoulder and, following the momentum, pelted up with a jump, grabbing one of the lower branches and swinging her legs up against the trunk to manoeuvre herself._

 _"No,_ _ **you're**_ _high." Tig wet his lips as he saw a flash of her underwear beneath her skirt as she scrabbled up. "Lex, come on, you're going to hurt yourself."_

 _"I'm fine!" Her long, willowy limbs seemed secure as she swung like a little monkey higher up, and Tig hesitated. He put one foot on the root, willing himself to follow her up but simply unable to do it._

 _"How many of those things did you take?" He frowned, God, it was so unusual to have to be the responsible one but she had wanted to try them so badly and he could never say no to her. She shrugged and he winced as he heard the sound of a branch snap beneath her foot, followed by a 'shh' and a snigger. "Lex?"_

 _"Just a couple." He looked up to see her sitting down, her legs hanging over the edge. "Why are you being so bossy? Can't you see?" She got to her feet and walked along, fearless. "I'm Catwoman."_

 _As much as he liked the thought, he shook his head. "No, you're not, and you're going to fall."_

 _"No! Look!" She suddenly yanked a Sharpie out of bra and waved it at him before turning it on herself and drawing a crude pair of whiskers onto her cheek before colouring in the tip of her nose. On completion, she threw the pen at him and beamed. "See?"_

 _Tig tried his hardest not to laugh at the proud look on her face. She looked so pleased with herself, it was impossible to tell her how ridiculous she looked. Unimpressed with his lack of response, she continued to climb._

 _"Catwoman's a thief, anyway." Tig was feeling sick as he saw her escalating even further. He needed to keep talking to her, distract her. "What have you ever stolen, huh?"_

 _She grinned widely at that and turned around. "Your heart, silly."_

 _It would have been a beautiful moment if she hadn't decided in that second to turn around to face him and lost her footing. Tig barked out as she wobbled and shrieked, her hand grappling with the branch as she tried to grab on but she fell. It all happened too fast for Tig to react, but he grunted as the brunt of her weight fell from the height into him, slamming him flat to the floor as she landed on him._

 _Her laughter was almost hysterical as she picked herself up. Bruised and sore, she didn't care, but she pressed her body to his as she ploughed his face with excited kisses. Tig, torn between being furious with her and grateful she was fine all in one breath, groaned at her little affectionate embraces._

 _"You." He growled as he wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her tightly. "You are going to be the fucking death of me." He rubbed his thumb against her nose, frowning as the black marker didn't rub off._

 _"Not if you kill me first." She smiled, rolling onto the grass beside him and accidentally elbowing him hard in the stomach as she did. She squeaked by way of apology and blushed, kissing him one more time._

* * *

"I don't like heights." He sniffed. "And I don't like hurting people."

Shriek raised an eyebrow at the second comment and conspiratorially dragged her seat closer to his. "Doesn't that come with the job?" Her voice was low and somehow Tig felt an intimacy from her proximity that made him uncomfortable.

"You don't know about me and what I do."

She shrugged. "I know enough. About your rap sheet. About your ex wife. Your children. Your... mistress."

"Don't call her that."

The sudden snap made Shriek jump and her knee bumped against the table, making it skid noisily. Tig looked around, trying to settle the suspicious eyes that fell on them and gave an awkward grin to those around them by way of apology.

"I'm sorry," Shriek said quickly. "I didn't mean any offence, I-"

"Em. She used to call her that." He shook his head. "Mistress. _Lover_. Like it was dirty. Like she was some sort of secret." He looked up sadly. "Lex was my everything."

* * *

 _Tig sat on the floor with his legs crossed. Dawn was sitting beside him, her little legs splayed indelicately in both directions, babbling as she tried to fit some bricks together on her playmat. Emma was pacing anxiously back and forth, back and forth, trying to quiet a screaming Fawn in her arms as she did._

 _"So you're just going to leave?"_

 _Dawn looked up brightly and Tig pursed his lips to hush her gently, shaking his head and making her titter quietly. She offered him a plastic tea cup which he accepted gracefully and took an exaggerated slurp._

 _"You'll have everything you need. All of you need," he added, gesturing to the bundle Emma bounced on her hip. "Take the house, that's fine, I'll work something out. Clothes, car, furniture, just keep it."_

 _Emma looked at him in disbelief. "And what, you're just going to up and leave? You only just got back." She couldn't understand. "Where are you going to go?"_

 _Dawn interrupted again, offering Tig a rubber banana that he took from her patiently. Taking his time, he pretended to peel it and take a bite, making Dawn clap with glee at his pretence._

 _"I don't know, Em. I just... I gotta go." He looked up as he continued to pretend to eat, his blue eyes connecting with his wife's. "All this Little House on the Prarie bullshit. It's not me."_

 _"And what is 'you', hmm?" Emma looked exasperated as Fawn continued to scream and Tig got up on his knees and took the baby into his arms. He bounced her once, twice, and she settled a little. He turned her towards him, pulling faces at her, and Emma frowned. "Is this about that girl?"_

 _Tig didn't answer as he dragged over Fawn's bouncing seat with his spare hand and rested her in it._

 _"What girl?"_

 _"You_ _ **know**_ _what girl." Emma, now free of the baby, stood with her hands on her hips, rage in her eyes. "The girl who got you fired, Tig. The one who put our whole damn livelihood at stake."_

 _Tig waved his hand dismissively. "I can get another job. You don't have to worry, I've told you, you can stay here-"_

 _"-because you're going to shack up with her?!" Emma was shouting now and Dawn, ever the peacemaker in her early age, got up and waddled over with her plastic teacup. She offered it to her mother with a smile but Emma didn't move. Tig watched as his little girl's face began to fall._

 _"Drink the tea, Em." Emma was totally still and Tig could see Dawn's lower lip beginning to quiver as she tried harder to give the cup to her. He swallowed. "Emma. Drink the tea."_

 _"I don't want the fucking tea!" Emma suddenly screamed, snatching the plastic cup away from Dawn and hurling it squarely at Tig's head. It bounced off him lightly but Dawn burst into tears and threw herself into her father's lap._

 _Tig sighed as he got to his feet and picked Dawn up, carrying her to the couch and settling her down. He reached up onto the top shelf and gave her a lollipop he had secured for emergencies before turning on Emma, grabbing her elbow and marching her into the kitchen._

 _"Not in front of the kids," he warned quietly, but Emma was incredulous._

 _"What? You want me to save it for her instead?" She slammed her balled fist into his shoulder in outrage and Tig took the first blow with little concern._

 _"Em, this doesn't work. You know that." He looked toward the other room. "We only got married because of Dawnie, and we made it work, for a little while. But it's not right. Here," he added, tapping his chest. Emma laughed darkly._

 _"What are you, a romantic now?" She snorted at him. "You like getting your dick sucked and that's about it. What, did she get on her hands and knees out in the field for you? In the dirt?"_

 _He let go of her abruptly. "You shut your goddamn mouth, Em."_

 _"She did, didn't she?" She was growing more upset now, her hands tangling in her hair in outrage. "Like a fucking slut. Like a trashy goddamn whore."_

 _Tig wasn't taking it. He shook his head, turning his back on her as Emma broke down. He started towards the door when she suddenly ran at him, thumping him in rage._

 _"Where are you going? Are you going to her? To your mistress?" She slammed her hands into his back repeatedly and Tig twisted to try and look at her but her nails clawed in rage at his face, tearing his cheek as she went for him._

 _"Jesus!" He grabbed her wrist and shoved her away, hissing as he touched his face and saw blood. "For fuck's sake, Em-"_

 _"Get out." She stared at him hatefully. "Go to her. To your mistress. That's what you want, isn't it? Her?" He didn't answer and she shook her head. "You're a piece of goddamn shit, Trager."_

* * *

"I went back, to apologise." Tig pulled a face. "It was a couple of days later, but she'd gone. Took the kids, the car. Stripped the house of everything. It was just..." He shook his head. "It was like an empty shell. Everything gone."

Shriek's teeth were tearing her lip apart as she tried her best not to burst into tears as she listened to his story. Tig sniffed and wiped his nose with his fist.

"She was back, when she wanted the money," he added with an uncomfortable laugh. "The girls too. I'd give them anything they ever wanted, those two. Daddy's little girls."

"Do you still speak to them?"

He blew the air out of his cheeks. "Fawn? I text her. Here and there."

Shriek nodded. "And Dawn?"

He suddenly became remarkably withdrawn. His eyes filled with tears and he looked down at his feet. Suddenly craving some sort of comfort, he picked up the fork and ate a little taste of cake. He finished it quickly and had just opened his mouth to speak when they suddenly heard a loud shriek outside.

All too used to a problem, Tig raced out to the porch to see two teenagers, rough and grubby, with a pair of wire cutters yanking Shriek's bicycle away from the post it was chained to. He started down towards them but they scarpered quickly, whizzing off on the thing before he could even get to his bike.

"Oh shit." Shriek followed him out and stood with one hand to her temple as she looked out after them. "Little goddamn punks. I just got that one."

"I'll get it," Tig muttered, starting to straddle his bike but she shook her head.

"Forget it. They're from out of town, they'll be gone by now. I'll have to get another one."

Nancy suddenly appeared behind her, her reaction to her commotion outside slower in her old age. She saw the distressed look on her granddaughter's face and wrinkled her nose.

"What happened?"

"Couple of kids, took her bike." Tig looked out in the direction they had gone, he was sure he could catch them up but Shriek clearly didn't care for the argument. Nancy pottered down the stairs slowly towards Tig and smiled, resting a hand on her shoulder.

"Maybe you could give her a ride home then, please. You'd be doing an old lady a big favour."

Tig laughed at the woman's machinations and nodded. "Sure, Nance. Maybe you can, uh, give her the rest of the afternoon off, huh? I'll take her now?"

Nancy nodded and winked. "That's perfect," she said. She made her way back up the stairs and looked at Shriek with a proud smile. "Elsie, this nice young man is going to take you home." Shriek started to object but she was tutted into submission. "Let someone look after you for a change, dear. It won't hurt you. Just go." She elbowed her. "And make sure you offer him a drink when you get in. Understood?"


	11. Chapter 11

A/N - just a quick note to thank **RhondaL** for beta reading the next chapter for me. It was a difficult one to write but I hope I did it justice. I would love to know what you think.

* * *

To Tig, there was nothing better than driving his Harley with a woman clinging onto him. He smiled as he revved the engine and pressed his foot to the accelerator. That wasn't quite true. Taking a new girl on the bike was always the best. Especially one who had never ridden before. Shriek was holding onto him for dear life, totally terrified, and Tig couldn't help but smile as he noticed how white her knuckles were as they clasped him.

He leaned forward as he rounded the last corner into her area and slowed right down to come to a perfect stop outside her house. He could almost hear her heart beating in her throat and he glanced behind him with a wink.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?"

She didn't seem convinced and he chuckled as he got up before offering her a hand. She tried to stand up as elegantly as possible but her inner thighs hurt, not at all used to the width of the motorcycle or the passion with which Tig rode the thing. Ruffling her long skirt up, she glanced at him to look away and swung her leg over, stumbling a little as she stood herself upright. Tig chuckled and reached back to stop her falling without even looking, he knew that she'd be dizzy from the ride.

He leaned his ass against one of the posts of the white picket fence and looked back at the house for a moment. Shriek seemed to hesitate as she started towards the gate and then walked back to him.

"Meemaw'll kill me if she finds out I didn't invite you in." She pulled her keys from her purse and gestured up the pathway towards the house. "I couldn't say you were a client, I'm sorry she made things so difficult."

Tig shrugged it off with a smile. "She's sweet, I like her." He could see the difficulty Shriek was having with the invitation she was due to deliver and he grimaced, he should let her off really. "Look, don't worry about the drink. Let me use your bathroom and I'll be out of your hair."

It seemed like a compromise and she nodded. Tig followed her up the path and through the neatly manicured garden towards the front, and he watched intently as she unlocked the three bolts on the door and slipped in to switch off an electronic alarm. She laughed shyly as she saw his expression.

"I'm… paranoid, about security." She welcomed him in and Tig stalked in, looking around quickly. He rested his hand on his hip as he studied the kitchenette. "I deal with a lot of crazies in my line of work. I don't invite most of them in though," she added jokingly. Tig smiled a little and she blushed, gesturing down the hall. "Bathroom's just down there."

She thumped her fist to her head in frustration as Tig followed her directions and leaned her forehead against the refrigerator. What was she doing? Why the hell was she allowing this guy into her house, into her home? Everything within her was telling her to put distance between them but, goddamn it, she hated herself for wanting him to be there.

"Pull yourself together," she snapped at herself as she dipped down and reached into the fridge. She wrapped her fingers around the neck of a bottle of wine and yanked it out just as Tig returned.

"Thanks," he said. He spotted the wine and pointed to it with a laugh. "You, uh, shouldn't drink alone. Start of a problem. Only useful thing my Dad ever told me."

Shriek took a breath and pursed her lips for a moment. Putting the bottle on the island counter, she smirked a little as she passed by him and got down two glasses, one for each of them.

"I thought you said you never knew your father," she murmured as she poured out a glass and slid it towards him. He laughed and raised his glass towards her.

"Touché. I thought you weren't listening."

She clinked it with her own and took a sip. "I'm always listening. I never get to stop." She gestured to the living room and Tig paused for a brief moment before following her. He watched as she slipped off her shoes and dropped down on the couch, tugging her feet up beneath her. He glanced around the little den, used to sitting on a different couch in her office, but she laughed. "Just the one here, I'm afraid. We'll have to share."

He nodded slowly and sat, smiling a little. "Nice place," he said, not sure what people said in these situations. It had been a long time since Tig had made a social call. Visits to women were only ever just about sex, and any other drop-in was for club purposes, so he felt completely out of place.

"It's big, for just me." She shrugged and took a big sip of wine, trying to quell the feelings of uncertainty in her stomach. Tig nodded, kicking off his boots haphazardly.

"No kids?" She shook her head.

"First didn't want them after all. Second couldn't." She nibbled her nail. "Probably getting too rusty for it now anyway." They both were quiet for a moment and Tig watched as she wiggled her bare toes for a moment. "We, uh, never finished talking earlier. About your girls. About Dawn."

Tig suddenly gulped down the rest of his wine and stood up. Thinking he was going to leave, Shriek started to apologise but he simply went to get the bottle of wine from the kitchen and refilled his glass generously. She waited for him to sit and take a sip – needing the alcohol as encouragement – before he ventured,

"Dawn… died." He swallowed. "About six months ago."

He watched as Shriek shifted, rearranging her weight and leaning a little closer to him. "I'm… I'm so sorry, I didn't know. That's not in the file-"

"Not everything's in the file." Tig knocked back the remains of his drink, this was going to need something stronger than wine. He spotted a neat whisky decanter on a bookshelf and went to help himself. "This conversation. It's off the record." She nodded instantly.

"Of course. You shouldn't even be here," she reminded him. "If you want to talk about-"

"I'm a bad man."

Somehow, saying that alone made him feel stronger. Tig laughed at himself, placing the glass on the floor by his feet and rubbing his palms together slowly as he stared at the dense carpet. Shriek remained still, waiting for him to continue.

"I do bad things," he admitted. "Sometimes on purpose. Sometimes not. Sometimes completely unintentionally." He pinched the bridge of his nose and let his hand slide to his mouth, covering it for a moment. "You don't need to know a lot about me, Doc, to know I live in a tit-for-tat kinda world. People want compensation. Revenge." He shook his head. "Retaliation. Dawn, she… she got caught up in that when I accidentally hit the wrong guy's kid."

She could see him struggling to find the words and Shriek leaned across, putting her wine down and taking his hand in her own. Tig gave her a smile, one that was tired of hiding, tired of fighting.

"She was a sucker for cash." He laughed at himself. "It was probably my fault, I gave her anything she ever needed from me. Never told her Mom, never punished her when I found out she'd lied for it. She was just my little girl, you know?" He shrugged. "She'd turn up, tell me her sister needed it for something and then disappear. Half the time I swear she'd turn up just to check I hadn't used it all up." He chuckled a little, twisting one of his rings on his finger. "He must have known that to get her there. That she was just a silly, greedy little girl."

* * *

 _Tig winced as he heard the click of the metal cuffs behind him. They were cold to his wrists in the night air and he shook his head. "You've got to be shitting me." This was it. He was dead. Someone, somewhere, had finally had enough of him._

 _The black stranger gritted his teeth, he smelled of coffee and caffeine drinks, his sweat soaking through the smart suit he was dressed in. "Walk."_

 _Tig laughed, looking the guy over, despite his hands already being bound. "No, man, I'm not going anywhere."_

 _For the briefest moment, he thought his stubbornness would pay off but an almighty smack to the jaw suddenly placed him back in reality. Tig reeled, unable to shake off his impending sense of dread, and the guy grabbed his hair and shoved him forward. "Shut up." Tig swallowed. "Move."_

* * *

"I thought they were going to kill me." Tig was almost visibly shaking now as he sat, hunched over, his eyes directed down to the floor. He felt sick, beads of sweat were beginning to form around his temples and an overwhelming nausea beginning to cloud his head. "Out there, in the dark. I thought they'd just leave my body for the dock patrol to pick up. I never thought…"

He couldn't do it. The thought of Pope's dark face, those black eyes staring at him, knowing that he had no idea what would happen next. He shivered as he closed his eyes, the image of the pit full of dead Niners and Dawn, his Dawn, flashing through mind.

"Tig?"

She was wearing that denim jacket, the one he had given her the last time he'd seen her. It had probably belonged to a crow-eater, but he'd taken it from TM to put around her shoulders when it had gotten too cold. Those stripy tights, the black and white ones he'd always hated, he had recognised them instantly, even when she was unconscious.

"Oh, Dawny." He didn't even realise he had said it out loud until Shriek squeezed his hand and he looked at her. His was sure he was going to be sick.

"What happened, Alex?" she asked softly, her thumb rubbing over his knuckles. He could barely bring himself to say it, but he knew he had to. He closed his eyes, tears running down his cheeks as he became overwhelmed with memories he simply couldn't quell.

"They burned her alive."

* * *

 _He saw it happen. He saw it happen before it even did. The sound of the canister lapping gas out onto her, Tig knew what was coming and he knew he could do nothing. He wrangled with the metal chain, desperately trying to snap it so he could do something, throw himself in there with her to protect her, but he was locked tight, like a dog, not able to get close enough._

 _"_ _Stop." He looked at Pope, desperate. His eyes begged for mercy but it was clear that Damian Pope had risen to power because he simply didn't have any to offer. "STOP."_

 _"_ _Daddy?" Dawn sounded tired, confused. They had probably drugged her, or knocked her unconscious. Tig suddenly wished that she hadn't woken up. That he hadn't kept calling her, trying to bring her around. That, that would have been better._

 _He grunted as he reached the end of his chain, still unable to reach her. "I'm so sorry, baby." He rounded back, eager to get to Pope. He could feel the skin on his wrists tearing as he desperately tried to free himself. In frustration, he let out an almighty scream before doubling over in exhaustion. "Let me go! Goddamn it, let me go."_

 _Her voice was a petulant whine from the box. "Get me out of here! Please!"_

 _His little girl needed him, and he couldn't do a thing. Just a glimpse of her crippled him, her lip quivering just like it did when she was little and frightened. He looked at Pope beseechingly._

 _"_ _Oh man, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. But please, please not her." He knew it was futile but he had to try. "I beg you. Kill me." He was desperate, he had no other choice, but he would do anything to free her. "Please."_

* * *

"Do you know what he said?" Tig's voice was cold, monotone, just like Pope's had been. " _'Know my pain, Mister Trager.'_ "

He could see it happening all over again. Pope taking the cigar from his mouth and dropping it so casually into the box. The gasoline lighting, the sudden roar of the flames engulfing Dawn and her pitiful screams as they torched her skin. The sound of her body hitting the sides as she desperately tried to get out, or put it out, neither of which were working. The aimless, hopeless thumping was a beat in his head he simply couldn't get rid of.

"You know what sticks with me the most?" He didn't look up, he kept his eyes focused on her shoes on the floor. It was the only way he could even continue to speak. "The smell. Gas and… meat. Like a barbecue." He shook his head, screwing his eyeballs tight shut. "Her flesh. Just… burning. And… and I couldn't stop watching it. It was hypnotising. Because it was me. I did that to her."

That felt like the worst confession. He glanced up at Shriek now, it was the last nail in the coffin. He expected to see her staring at him in disgust, she was probably wiling him to get out of her house with everything within her but when he saw her, she was crying. Her eyes were red, her sockets and cheeks swollen and puffy. Mascara was streaked down her face, and her hand was to her mouth, the only way to suppress the urge to vomit. She was shaking her head in disbelief, unable to even begin to comprehend it. This was like nothing she had ever, ever come across.

"It was my fault."

She suddenly moved, sitting up on her knees and leaning towards him. "No. No, never." Her hands cupped his face as she held him, her eyes staring deeply into his in a bid to connect with him. "Tig, that man was a monster."

Tig shook his head. "He considered us even."

"He tortured you." Shriek couldn't even fathom it, her whole mind was spinning. This was the stuff of crime novels, horror films. This wasn't a life, this wasn't a real man's memories. "What happened to his daughter was an accident."

Tig closed his eyes, heavy tears rolling from his eyes and falling against her hands as she held him. "He didn't see it that way." He sniffed, his nostrils flaring, and he eased her hand away from him. "I've never told anyone that. He told me not to."

Shriek was speechless. "Tig." He didn't look up but she sloped her neck down to catch his eye. "He killed her. In cold blood. The police, they can-"

Tig laughed out loud at that, shaking his head. "What? What can the police do, huh? Arrest him? He'd only have bought his way out and gone after Fawn." He waved his hand. "It's done now, he's dead." He snorted, wiping his nose on his sleeve and trying to shake off the overwhelming weight on his shoulders. "I got a whole trail of dead people in my midst, Doc. You should be scared. The reaper?" He unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it off his shoulder to show her his tattoo. "Follows me everywhere."

She wiped her face with her palm and sighed, reaching over and running her hand through his hair. "No wonder you're so troubled," she whispered. She leaned forward, pressing her forehead into his shoulder and stroking him softly. "I'm so sorry, Alex."

As Tig felt her closing her eyes against him, he took a breath. Fuck, the all-consuming desire to kiss her was tearing through him but he shook his head and stood up quickly, pulling himself away from her. He stumbled, knocking over the empty glass as he moved out of the way. No, not her, not now.

"I have to go." He pushed his hand through his curls, shaking his head and quickly bent over to drag his boots on. "I'm sorry, I should never-" He stopped himself and swallowed, looking over her for just a second. "I have to go. I need to see Lex." He quickly righted the glass on the floor and smiled awkwardly. "Thank you for the drink." _Get out,_ his mind urged him, frantic. "I'll see you in the week."


	12. Chapter 12

Elsie Shriek drummed her fingers impatiently on her desk. The past three days had passed too slowly for her liking, her last encounter with Tig had left her with reams of questions she desperately needed answers to. She had done nothing but dwell on them constantly, during sessions with other people as well as in her private moments.

So when he didn't appear in her office with his usual drug-addicted enthusiasm, she was disappointed. Her eyes studied the clock, watching as the minute hand edged around torturously slowly. She never gave anybody more than ten minutes leeway for tardiness, but she had already been sitting there for almost twenty and hadn't yet given up home.

A quiet knock on her door startled her to her feet, but her receptionist, the little bald man, poked his head around.

"No sign, El," he said with a small, apologetic smile. "Shall I lock up?"

Shriek contemplated the suggestion for a moment before scribbling something on a Post-It and folding it into her pocket. "Might as well," she murmured, clicking off her computer. "Thanks, Frank."

He nodded dutifully and started to shut up the office. Shriek collected her bag onto her shoulder and wrinkled her nose a little as she walked out to make her way back towards her place. It was a good half hour's walk when she didn't have her bicycle, and she knew it would leave her with too much time to think. Why she cared bothered her more than she dared to admit. Tig Trager was just another patient, she had dealt with more than enough of them in her time. What he had suffered, though, was beyond anything she had ever heard before. His relationships growing up were messy and damaging and his all-consumibg affair with Alexa was something that controlled him. And what had happened to Dawn...

Abandoning her thoughts of going home, she flagged down a cab as it drove past and ducked inside.

"Where to, miss?"

Digging her hand back into her bag, she pulled out the scrap of paper. "Teller Morrow, in Charming, please?"

It was a good forty minute ride to TM. Why she made it, she wasn't sure, but the cab dropped her at the entrance gate and Shriek made her way across the lot towards the garage. The place smelled of gas and burning rubber, and she pulled a face as she saw oil smeared on the ground around the workshop.

"Need something, darlin'?"

A handsome young blond jogged towards her, scraping his hair back from his eyes as he did. He looked eager, kind, but with that same troubled expression that marked Tig's face each time she saw him.

"I'm looking for Alex Trager?" The young man smiled.

"What for?" She was no crow eater, that's for sure, in her fitted suit and blazer, Louboutins on her feet instead of towering hooker heels. This woman, sure as hell, was not the usual kind of customer around here.

"He missed an appointment, that's all."

It was coded enough that Jax wondered mindlessly if she was a hooker after all, maybe one of Nero's girls, and he chuckled at that. "Let me see if I can find him for you."

She watched as he disappeared into the office, and Shriek gazed idly around. This place didn't seem too busy, certainly not busy enough to pretend to employ the ten SAMCRO members that belonged to this charter. It was amazing the police in Charming bought into any of the club's front, they must have had someone on in the inside in their pocket.

"You need some help?"

She hadn't even seen the thick-set old bruiser as he worked beneath the bonnet of an old Falcon. Shriek smiled politely but the guy didn't return it, looking at her suit with suspicion.

"I'm being served, thanks," she replied but the man rose up, crunching his knuckles as he did and slamming the hood shut.

"You're the shrink, aren't you?"

Shriek felt herself breathing in, drawing herself taller as the old man approached her. There was something in his eyes that she didn't like, something threatening and unwelcome. "Have we met?"

"Clay Morrow." He didn't hold out his hand. He had spent enough time researching her to know her face, her address, her history. It was his business to know. "You're here to give him a clean bill of health, right?"

Shriek bit her tongue, this guy was a bully, she could tell. "I'm afraid I couldn't possibly discuss that. Mister Trager is my client-"

Clay suddenly moved towards her, a dark look in his eyes. "Cut the bullshit with me," he muttered, coming a little too close for comfort. "He's only making up stories to pass the goddamn time. So let's just make friends here. Find a... mutual agreement, to put an end to this shit and sign him off."

He was trying to bribe her. Shriek clenched her fist a little, counting to ten to help her rising panic subdue. She sniffed, calming her nerves, and replied,

"I'm afraid it doesn't work like that."

She could feel utter relief flooding her as Tig mooched slowly out of the office, his hands in his pockets as he crossed towards her. His eyes rolled over her, amused to see her here, and he winked, turning on the front it had taken her weeks to break through.

"What's up, Doc?" He sniggered but Shriek looked far from amused.

"We had an appointment," she replied curtly. "And you didn't turn up."

Tig had debated for a long time whether to go and he shrugged coolly. "I figured we were done, Doc." He draped himself across the car dramatically. "I'm a hopeless case." It was Clay's turn to snigger now and Shriek's eyebrows furrowed.

"If you're going to act like a little boy around your man-crush, that's fine," she said, looking towards Clay. "But you turn up next week or I'll have your files sent up Chino by Friday."

Her tone made it clear she wasn't joking, and as she started back towards the street, Tig realised he felt bad. He pulled a face and started to jog behind her to catch up.

"Hey. Doc, come on." She ignored him and he gripped her elbow as he fell level with her. "Elsie, come on, I'm joking."

She stopped abruptly and pulled her arm away from his hold, irate. "Well I'm not laughing." Her hand fell to her hip like a school teacher. "This is all a big joke to you, right? You and your seedy boss? I'm just trying to do my job." She looked at him in exasperation. "Is any of it true?"

Tig's eyes widened as he looked at her. "What?"

"All the stuff you've been telling me. Is it all lies? You lied about your father, what's the rest of it, huh?" She was frazzled, Clay had scared her and she didn't want to admit it, so taking her fears out on Tig seemed like the obvious solution. "This might just be a game to you but I'm not doing this for my goddamn health."

Her raised voice was beginning to raise attention and Tig could feel himself turning red, embarrassed. "Doc, no." He glanced around and leaned into her. "I've never told anyone the shit we've been talking about. About Dawn, about Lex."

Shriek was silent. For some reason, hearing that second name bothered her. She knew why, and she hated the fact that she was jealous of a woman she didn't even know. What was wrong with her? She felt like she was losing it, being here, on the lot. Tig was staring at her, confused.

"Please, I'm not lying." He whimpered a little. "I missed the session because I didn't want to go through any more of it. I went to Lex the last time I saw you and, I don't know, it fucked me up."

Shriek crossed her arms defensively, trying to relax a little. She needed to stay professional, even though this was getting too complicated for her.

"How was she?"

Tig laughed, looking down at his feet. "Quiet," he chuckled. "She's a good listener. Less opinionated than she used to be."

Shriek could see that the question had tickled him. "Did you spend the night?" He looked at her in surprise.

"I usually stay at the house," he admitted quietly. "But yes I stayed. It rained," he added, wrinkling his nose. "But I knew she wanted me there." He looked around for a moment and motioned for her to follow him. He tugged her around the back of the clubhouse towards the swings and smiled as he motioned for her to sit, trying to make her feel comfortable.

"Did you never want a family with her?" Shriek couldn't help but ask, Tig always spoke so ardently about the girl. He had had children with Emma, it wasn't like he was averse to the idea. She never dared ask what had happened between them but this seemed like the right question. Tig nodded.

"Oh, we did." He sniffed and pulled out his pack of cigarettes, he offered her one but she refused.. "It just never worked out."

* * *

 _It was rare for Tig to be allowed a play date with his children, but Emma was on a date and he was the last resort. Alexa was tickled by the idea of babysitting, and after four hours of braiding hair and painting fingernails, the girls had finally crashed out._

 _"You're good with them," Tig murmured with an amused smile as he pressed a glass of wine into her hands as she settled on the beanbag in the den._

 _"I had a lot of practice," she said as he dropped down on the floor beside her, resting his head on her knee. "Spent my whole life babysitting."_

 _The idea delighted Tig. "Fucking pigtails and little skirts, right?" His fingertips crawled up her bare leg, he was turned on just thinking about it. "Bet the moms hated you." She laughed._

 _"Yeah, but the dads' tips always made up for it." Tig was beginning to kiss along her thigh, his moustache tickling her skin as he did and she stifled a laugh. "Alex, the kids..." She whimpered as his tongue curled against her._

 _"They'll be fine." He couldn't wait until they got home. "Fuck, Lex, I gotta have you right now."_

 _She squealed as he clambered over her, straddling her and making her giggle mercilessly as he slipped his hands beneath her underwear. She could feel him, hard against her, and her eyes glowed as he caressed her._

 _"We should make one," he murmured as he started to tug away her clothing. "Our own one. Then we could do this all the time."_

 _She smiled, unsure, but the look in eyes told her he wasn't joking. "Are you serious?" She paused for a moment, her hand against his chest._

 _"I'm crazy about you," he whispered, his nose nudging hers. "Doesn't it seem like the right thing to do?" She nodded innocently and he grinned. "I want it all with you, Lex. Let's do it right. When the divorce shit comes through from Em, we can get married. You in a white dress. I'll even put on a tux." She laughed at the idea but Tig was excited. "Our little boy – or girl – can bring the rings. It'll be beautiful."_

* * *

"We tried." He chuckled as he finished the smoke and tossed the butt away. "We tried a _lot_. Just wouldn't, you know, catch for a long time." He rubbed his thumb over his lips before murmuring, "You prescribe weed, Doc?"

"Not usually," she mused, watching as he pulled a pre-rolled joint out of his top pocket.

"You won't object to a little self-medication though?" He didn't wait for her to answer, lighting up before she could. He groaned as he breathed out, a fog of smoke escaping his lips. He offered it to her and was surprised to see her take the thing from him and take a hit. Shriek closed her eyes as she breathed out, leaning her shoulder blades against the wall and enjoying the taste for just a second.

"Did you stop trying?"

Tig's eyes looked vacant as he took another drag, burying himself in the comfort of the hash. "Not exactly." He looked at her for a moment, wondering if he should tell her more but then shaking the idea out of his head. "It got frustrating. We started messing around, shit like this," he added, gesturing to the joint. "We'd get buzzed, fuck like crazy, but it just never happened when we wanted it to." Shriek could feel a chill as he said it, licking around her, and Tig pursed his lips. "Doc, Lex-"

Before he could finish the sentence, the sound of tires screaming out front filled the air. A ricochet of bullets tore through the forecourt and Tig grabbed her, slamming her to the ground in an instant. The sound of shattering glass made them both feel sick.

"Stay still," he whispered, his hand over her mouth to stop her from making a sound. "I got you." He could feel her shaking and he stroked her hair softly. "You're fine, we're fine."

She was far from fine, and she knew that because he was reaching behind him. Tig tugged his gun from the back of his pants and swung it smoothly into his palm, making Shriek whine softly against him.

"Come on," he muttered, scooping one arm around her and helping her to her feet. "Keep your head down."

There was shouting from inside the clubhouse and the unwelcome visitors retreated the way they had come with hoots and hollers of approval. Tig ushered Shriek with him, bringing her in around the back and draping his arm around her shoulders as he guided her in. Jax was the first to see her and he swung his gun towards her, but Tig waved him away quickly.

"Nah, she's good, she's with me." He squeezed her assuringly. "What happened?"

"Everyone's good." Clay thundered through from church, a dark scowl on his face. He squinted at Shriek disapprovingly, hating the fact that she was in his clubhouse but Tig shook his head.

"I'll vouch for her," he said assertively, nodding to his President dutifully. "What was that?"

"Mayans." A younger guy with a shaved Mohawk looked up from the security screens behind the bar. He smiled politely at Shriek before turning the screen towards Clay. Clay ground his back teeth in annoyance and clenched his fists.

"Church. Now. Sit her down," he added, jerking his thumb towards Tig. "Stay put," he added, as if she were some sort of animal as Shriek lowered herself onto the couch. Tig patted her hand, nodding.

"You'll be fine, I'll just be a minute." He looked to Clay, unsure he should leave her alone, but Clay's sneer made it clear he had no choice. Clay gave Tig a shove towards a separate room and paused to bark, "Somebody get me Alvarez on the goddamn phone," before slamming the door in her face.


	13. Chapter 13

"I need to go."

The second they came out of the other room, Shriek was on her feet and making her way towards Tig. He met her half-way across the floor, intercepting her with a hand on her lower back as he guided her to the bar.

"Do you want a drink?" He seemed relaxed, maybe it was the joint they had been smoking but his hands felt warm on her, dwelling for longer than they should have been. "You must be off the clock now, right?" She pressed her lips together.

"That depends. Are we still having an appointment?"

Tig chuckled a little, he loved her adamant little way. He hopped one foot against the front of the bar, fishing two beer bottles out of the ice in the sink and handing her one. "Well you're going to have to stay here a little longer," he shrugged, not entirely apologetic but sure that he was going to get blasted for it. "Clubhouse is going to be in lockdown for a few hours at least, you might as well get comfortable."

"Comfortable?" She shook her head, not taking a drink but putting the bottle down on the bar. "No, I don't think so. I have things to do."

Tig smiled. "Like what? Go back to your big empty house?" He pursed his lips a little, swaying his hips towards her. "Lay in bed? Touch yourself?" He broke into a filthy grin and leaned into her. "You think of me when you touch yourself, Doc?"

She gritted her teeth and stared at him, trying not to rise to his baiting. "I'm going home," she said. She took one brief sip from the bottle and raised it for a moment. "Thank you for your hospitality." She started towards the door and Tig saw the look from Clay, he knew that there was no way she could slip off the lot while they were under siege. She shouldn't have been there in the first place, if a cop saw her there, Tig would be hauled back to Charming PD.

"Hey." He dashed to catch up with her and put his arm around her. Even though she tried to shrug him off, he held on anyway. "Don't be like that. Let me show you around."

"I'm not interested." Her tone was curt. "I was shot at here, Tig, I'm not staying."

"You're safe here," he insisted, his eyebrows furrowing. They stepped out of the front and Tig paused by the picnic tables but she was adamantly striding forward. "Come on. It's not like you've got a ride anyway."

She turned around with a frown. "I can catch a cab." He laughed.

"You know those gunshots, Doc? No cab'll be coming around here any time soon." He took her hand and pulled her towards Teller Morrow. "Let me show you where I work. Maybe you'll, I don't know, piece me together or some shit."

Seeing he wasn't about to give up, she gave in and followed him begrudgingly towards the garage. Clay was still in the club, thankfully, and the workshop was empty. Tig walked her in, motioning around, talking about nothing in particular when she planted her feet on the spot and crossed her arms.

"You're just going to ignore the fact that we were shot at?"

Tig put his hands in his pockets for a moment, avoiding her eye as he focused his attention on a scratch on the paintwork of one of the cars. He rubbed his thumb over it casually.

"Are you hurt?" He looked up, waiting for her to answer. When she shook her head, he shrugged. "Then it doesn't matter, does it?"

She couldn't believe he was serious. She stared at him, irritated, and Tig sighed. Pacing around her, he reached for the control panel for the shutters and lowered them, blocking out the setting sun as he enclosed them in the confines of the garage before continuing.

"The other MCs. Sometimes they take over smaller groups, patch them over. It was a christening, that's all. Nobody was going to get hurt."

She shook her head in disbelief. "So what? They just come by, take a few shots and hope for the best?" Tig didn't answer and she squared up to him. "I saw the faces on your security camera. Those Mexican kids. Paolo Carlitos, he comes into sessions at the office. He's dangerous, Tig. Some of the things he's done…" She shook her head, she didn't even want to think about the rap sheet she had read for him. Rape, assault, both sexual and physical. Armed robbery, abduction. "I know you're fucked up but that guy wasn't here for a goddamn christening."

Tig could see her getting frustrated, bound by her knowledge of one of the Mayans who had come through the lot. He pushed his hair back from his face and tugged out the remains of the joint they hadn't finished, holding it up, proud that he had managed to rescue it.

"Why don't we just calm down, huh? You're stuck here, Doc, whether you like it or not. Let's just chill."

She was about to explode in frustration when Tig's phone rang, the sound shrill in the confined space. He motioned for her to keep her cool, lifting the phone to his ear.

"Clay?" Clay's voice was low, Shriek could barely hear it but she could see from the changing expression on Tig's face that something wasn't good. He nodded slowly and motioned for her to come closer as he muttered, "Yeah, Prez, I got it. Thanks." He hung up, clicking off the line, and took her arm, steering her towards the office.

"Get off me," she demanded. Tig didn't listen, not until they were clear of the garage floor, and he pushed her into Gemma's office. Locking one door – and then the other – he turned the blinds to hide them both and grimaced at her.

"There's someone still on the lot," he said softly. "I don't want you to panic, Doc, but I just need you to keep your shit together and stay here with me. Quietly." He looked around the office, seeing a half-empty coffee pot, and he pulled a face, wishing he had brought more beer with him. "Take a seat, we could be a while."

"Are you serious?"

She watched as he stood with his back to the door and slid down, his ass hitting the ground as he sat with bent knees. It was clear he wasn't going anywhere, they were clearly stuck in here together.

"Make yourself comfortable," he murmured, gesturing to the couch. "Figured that was more your kind of thing. Shrink and all," he added with a smile. She gritted her teeth and sat down, and Tig tugged out his lighter, flicking it and holding it to the end of the joint. He took a drag before handing it to her for a turn. When she didn't accept it, he shrugged. "You can be a real bitch when you want to be. You have to loosen up."

She frowned at him, irritated. "Are you serious? You stood me up for our appointment. I bothered to come down here to look for you and your boss threatened me. Then I get shot at, and you're telling me I need to loosen up?"

Tig chuckled a little, leaning his head back against the door and taking it back. "Lex used to like a little smoke."

Shriek pursed her lips for a moment before she sat down on the sofa, knowing full well that she was locked in with him. "Well I'm not Lex." Tig smiled dopily, looking at the paper burning between his fingers.

"Yeah, you're not."

An awkward silence fell between them and Shriek began to arch her fingers, her knuckles cracking as she flexed them. "What does she do? Lex?"

Tig grinned. "Not very much," he laughed. "She used to be a bit of a wheeler dealer. Odd jobs, making friends, that kind of thing." He shrugged. "Figure it all got a bit tiring in the end. Now she's just… waiting for me, I guess."

* * *

 _"_ _Look what I made!"_

 _Tig pulled off his helmet as he stopped the bike on the drive and looked up at the death-trap of a swing Alexa had put together. She was standing proudly, her hands on her hips, a hammer tucked into the belt of her skirt as she stared with admiration at the thing, beaming. Tig dismounted the Harley and paced around it, studying it. There was no way on God's green earth that this thing was safe, it would probably collapse the second he touched it._

 _"_ _It's, uh, beautiful, baby." He carefully stroked the rope, sure it was about to drop but it didn't. Striding towards her, he wrapped his arms around her, planting a kiss on her mouth. Lex leaned into him, her hands winding around his neck and up into his hair as she returned his embrace before turning him encouragingly towards it._

 _"_ _I thought it could be, like, a love seat."_

 _Tig laughed at thought. "It's a bit, um, small," he frowned, scratching his head. "For a love seat. I think my fat ass won't fit on there_ _ **with**_ _yours."_

 _Lex pushed her lower lip out at that and admired her handiwork again. "I can sit on your lap, though. We can swing together."_

 _Oh God, she was going to make him sit on it. Tig dragged his feet a little as she led him towards it, looking up at the branch it was tied to. The knots were far from secure, it didn't take a genius to see that, and he scratched his head hesitantly._

 _"_ _You sure this is safe, sweetheart?" He tugged on the rope, hoping it would fall and prove his point, but it didn't. It was fixed fast, despite the look of it, and Lex looked disappointed that he was so uncertain._

 _"_ _Here, look." She ploughed past him and sat down. Her sleight weight was nothing on it, and the seat rocked securely back and forth. "It's fine, see?" She stood up and Tig, hesitant, edged towards it. He perched just the edge of his ass on it, leaning his weight on it, and he cringed as he heard the bough above shifting and creaking. But, to his surprise, it didn't break and he didn't fall._

 _Almost immediately, Lex gamboled towards him and settled on his lap. She was purring happily and Tig gathered her onto him, cuddling her close. Part of him was sure they were going to end up on the floor, but her unending faith in her project seemed to be keeping them up._

 _"_ _You been working on this all day?" Tig looked up at it, he had to admit he was impressed, he was sure it was going to collapse but he was completely wrong. She nodded, resting her face in the crook of his neck._

 _"_ _Mmhmm," she murmured happily. "I thought we could sit in it forever."_

 _He laughed, stroking her hair softly. She would come out with the cutest things sometimes. "We'll have to get up sometimes. Get food. Shower."_

 _She giggled. "I thought we could stay here. Just be stinky." She played with his hair beneath her fingers, not opening her eyes, she was too happy where she was. "You can feed me protein anyway," she added, her hand stroking against his groin. Tig groaned with pleasure and squeezed her._

 _"_ _Think the neighbours'll have something to say about that," he muttered. "Fuckers."_

 _They rocked together quietly, their limbs tangled together and their breathing falling into sync. Tig pursed his lips and hummed softly as they nestled together, not needing a thing in the world._

 _"_ _Alex?" Her voice seemed small and he looked down at her._

 _"_ _Alexa?"_

 _She smiled a little. "When I die… will you wait for me?"_

 _Tig cuddled her tightly, the very thought made him feel sick. "Don't talk shit, Lex," he said firmly, gathering her even closer to him than she already was. "That'll never happen."_

 _She leaned back a little, putting some space between them even though it was the last thing Tig wanted in that second. "No, I'm serious." She toyed with his hair. "I mean, I know you'll die first. Because you're, like, older than me." He gave her a playful punch and she sniggered. "But I know I'll wait for you. I just… I don't know about the other way around."_

 _Tig kissed the top of her head protectively and cupped her face in his hands. "Lex. I will never, ever let you go," he promised her, his blue eyes bright with eagerness. He held out his pinkie finger, wanting to swear it to her, wanting to make it clear that whatever happened, that would never change. "You and me, we'll make a pact, right now. Forever, okay?"_

 _She nodded, stretching her finger to link with his. "Okay." She smiled, relaxed. "Forever."_

* * *

"I'll always love her," Tig murmured quietly, reaching down and stubbing out the remains of his joint on his boot. "Me and her, we had something… unbreakable. Except, you know." He laughed darkly. "It broke."

Shriek rubbed her hand over her knee and leaned forward. "What happened?" she asked. Tig shook his head, closing his eyes to hide the fact that he was sure he was about to burst into tears.

"I don't want to talk about it, Doc." He screwed his eyes closed before opening them, blinking the droplets away. "Another time. When I'm less… dopey." He threw the burnt end towards the bin and smiled to himself as it landed in place. "It's just one of those things, you know? I fucked up. I fucked up a _lot_."

He stood up, turning his back to her as he twitched the blinds, looking for movement in the garage. The place seemed abandoned and he dug in his pocket for a second, flipping his phone to see a message from Clay. **_Stay put until clear._**

Lifting Shriek's legs on the couch, Tig ducked beneath them and settled down beside her. He leaned his head back against the cushions and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"You must think I'm the world's biggest screw up," he sighed, breathing out heavily towards the ceiling fan. "Can't keep a goddamn thing together."

"I think you've had a lot to struggle with," she said quietly. "That doesn't mean you've done it wrong."

"Wish that were true," he replied with a laugh. "Make me feel better, Doc, tell me it's not just me." He twisted his head to look at her, his eyes glazed over as he studied her. She seemed different, maybe it was the change in circumstances but Tig felt her proximity more than ever as they sat there, caged in. "Are you lonely?"

"We're not talking about me," she said abruptly, shaking her head and starting to get up but Tig took her hand, holding it with a gentleness she hadn't felt before. He smiled with a sweetness she wasn't used to.

"No, I'm serious. You're off duty. Just consider me a friend." The corner of his lips twitched. "You know all about me. Talk to me about you."

* * *

 **A/N - Thank you so much for all your reads and review and favourites and follows, they mean the world to me. Thought I'd break this chapter up, it was at risk of getting too heavy for me so I'll pick it up on the next chapter, promise ;) Hope you loved it. S x**


	14. Chapter 14

"There is nothing to say."

Shriek started to remove her legs from his lap but Tig took them with the perfect amount of pressure and held them in place. It was just enough to assure her he meant no harm, but also that he had no intention of letting her go. He tilted his head, leaning it against the back cushion of the couch, and gave her a sad sort of smile.

"You don't have feelings, Doc? Things you think, in your quiet moments?"

Shriek had to look away from him, his eyes were glowing so bright and blue as he stared at her. The things she thought were completely inappropriate, usually idle daydreaming about the wrong people... She swallowed, staring down at her feet to evade his gaze.

"I think about work. Meemaw. It's just the two of us, has been for a long time. She's all I've got, really."

It wasn't regret in her voice, it was sadness, and Tig started to draw circles with the tip of his finger on her calf. She didn't bat him away, secretly enjoying the intimate touch brushing against her, and he gently moved up towards her knee. It had been too long since someone has touched her like that.

"No folks?" She shook her head.

"Car accident," she said, shrugging it away. It was a story she had had to explain too many times. "A motorcyclist, actually. Some idiot on the freeway, caught an eighteen wheeler." Tig remained silent, his hand stilling. "It was ten years ago. I never got a full report of what happened, the case just, I don't know, disappeared." She sniffed for a moment and looked at him. "You probably know how that works, Mister MC. Bet you have all sorts of people in your pockets."

"We have friends." The words were colder than she had expected, she kind of thought he'd be full of his usual teases but he seemed a little distracted. "I'm... sorry. About your parents."

She tugged one knee closer to her body, wiggling her toes beneath his thigh. "Not like it's your fault," she replied coolly.

"You talk to your exes at all?" Tig wondered what it must be like, to feel so isolated. At least he had the club, they were his family. Shriek seemed totally alone. She laughed and shook her head.

"I have nothing to do with them. People grow apart. Especially when..." She smirked, she couldn't even believe she was going to admit this to him. Maybe it was being stuck in this goddamn box with him, maybe it was the weed in the air. Maybe it was the way his finger had started dragging against her higher up her thigh. "I met both of them as patients. Minor things," she added quickly. "Nothing as serious as you. I don't know, I guess I'm just a sucker for a good story."

Tig's eyes lit up a little. "Gosh, Doc. That's pretty naughty." God, she loved the way he said that. "Immoral."

"Well, I paid for it." She grimaced. "And I won't make that mistake again, for sure."

"Shame."

Tig didn't even know why he said it but it felt like he should. She looked at him with a little surprise and shook her head, stopping his hand by resting hers on top. He felt a growl surge through him as a little static shock passed between them, and she blushed, withdrawing quickly. The urge to crawl over her hungrily was overpowering, she had that look in her eyes, the one that made him know that she was craving his touch as badly as he wanted hers.

"Can I ask you something, Doc?" He could see she was embarrassed and he stroked her shoulder to soothe her. "When did you last... you know?" The way he wet his lips with his tongue told her everything and she coloured.

"I don't think that's appropriate." He grinned.

"I don't think you can say that to me any more," he chuckled. "Fucking patients? Marrying them? Bet that's not in your notes." He was growing hard against her, he wondered if she had noticed and was either too spaced or too polite to say anything. "I bet you're a wild little thing."

"Come on," she said, rolling her eyes. She got up, untangling herself from his hold, and she started to pace. She didn't like this, being caged in. Being trapped with Tig was beginning to get to her. He chuckled as he leaned back, his hands behind his head.

"We could be here for a while, Elsie," he murmured, pursing his lips and tapping his knee. "Let me help you pass the time."

She gave him a look and sighed, putting her hands on her hips. Tig loved it when she was a little madam.

"And what are you going to do, Mister Trager, huh?" She could see him slowly getting up, and, as if saying it out loud might deter him, she said, "Are you going to fuck me?"

Tig grinned. He wanted to, more than anything else. The tension between them, being locked in this small space, was driving him crazy. Just the smell of her was beginning to get to him, he was on heat and he would do anything to have her. "Not if you don't want me to, Doc," he said coolly. He stepped a little closer, backing her to the wall. "Do you want me to?"

Her body was screaming at her to just say yes but Shriek eased him back with one hand on his chest.

"I don't think that's a good idea."

Tig licked his lips, his fingertips resting on her waistband now, his eyes flicking curiously back and forth as he studied her. "That's not what I asked, is it?" He could see her breathing in sharply, her torso growing tight as his fingers brushed against her skin, but her eyes were bold and fearless, and he loved that.

"Alex, I-"

He couldn't stop himself. He pushed his mouth to hers, hungry for her, and he smiled as he heard her whimper eagerly against his tongue. Alex, nobody ever called him that but Alexa. Hearing it now, it was like a barrier being broken and he could feel his urges towards Shriek growing. He rubbed his hips eagerly against hers and, to his pleasant surprise, she pushed hers back, her hands resting on the buckle of his belt as she kissed him with even more intent. She knew she shouldn't but it felt so good, trapped in this little room with no witnesses and no record. It was like she was free and this was their little secret.

"Jesus, Doc." Tig could feel her hand snaking down to his pants and his eyes rolled back in his head. Just as her fingers had finished tackling the buckle, he groaned as he heard something out in the garage. He stopped, freezing, and his hand pressed over her mouth instantly, silencing her. He felt her still straight away, and, pressing against her, he flicked the blind behind her head.

It was just enough movement to see and be seen. Tig spotted the Mayan in an instant and shoved Elsie roughly towards the corner of the office. Fuck, the timing couldn't have been worse. Before he could even say a word of explanation, he heard the sound of a boot against the door, the wood of the frame cracking with the guy's eagerness to get in. Tig knew he had no choice, he couldn't take the risk. Snatching his gun from beneath his shirt at the back, he lifted it and aimed at the door. As the Mayan violently barged his way in, a revolver in hand, Tig didn't think twice about pulling the trigger and knocking the stranger dead. Shriek gasped as the blood splattered against them both, and Tig groaned as he saw her curling back, pulling away from him.

"Don't freak out," he tried to say softly, shaking his head. "He might have hurt us." As he reached for her, he saw her withdraw and he whinnied. "Else, come on. You have to trust me."

Before he could say another word, Clay and Jax had descended upon Teller Morrow. Jax leaned against the door frame and let out a low whistle.

"Shiiit," he muttered, looking at the mess. "Mom's gonna be pissed."

Clay sneered as he glared at Shriek. She was visibly shaking, trying to wipe the blood spatter off her legs with her sleeve. "That's not our only problem right now," he grunted, motioning towards her. Jax glanced over before turning his eyes to Tig.

"Damn." He put his hands on the back of his head and took a breath. "Let's get a prospect to clean this shit up. You," he added, pointing to Tig. "Bring her to the clubhouse. We better have a word."

* * *

A/N - Sorry this chapter is a bit shorter but I thought that was probably the best place to stop! ;-) Frustration for everyone!


	15. Chapter 15

Shriek didn't appreciate being frogmarched back towards the clubhouse. Tig kept his hand to her lower back, guiding her across the lot and into the building, and his fingertips tickled her ever so gently, assuring her that she was fine. It was easy for him to say that, though, this was his home turf, but everywhere she looked she was met with another leather-clad man she didn't know, and it did nothing to help her keep calm.

"Wash up," Clay ordered, pointing towards the apartment. He nodded towards an older woman, her dark hair combed through with little blonde hints. "Sort out her with something to wear, Gem."

'Gem' nodded, pursing her lips, and gestured for Shriek to follow her through to the apartment. Tig rested his hand on his hip as he watched them go, staring absently after them, and Clay slapped his back heavily.

"She'll give her a once over, you're fine." He pointed to chapel, feeling significantly calmer now the threat on the lot had been absolved. "Let's talk then you can get that Mexi shit off you."

Tig had forgotten he even had blood on him, and he rubbed at it with his thumb as he dragged his feet and followed Clay into church. Everyone was still milling into the room but they settled when Clay sat down at the head of the table. He took a moment to light a cigar, God he needed it to calm his nerves after that little intrusion, before addressing them.

"That was… unexpected."

Juice nodded, arching his fingers on the table. "Patch over. I didn't even know Mayans were expanding."

"Mayans are more controllable than the Chinese, that's for sure," Chibs chipped in. Jax nodded in agreement, resting his hands on the table.

"Alvarez didn't even know. He's fixing it. Although he doesn't know about the stiff in TM," he added, looking towards Tig for some sort of comment. Tig was gazing at the space in front of him, completely out of it, distracted by so many things whirring in his head and Chibs started to laugh as he slapped his back.

"Brother's baked, can't you tell?" He mimicked smoking a joint and Clay gritted his teeth, sure that that stupid woman in the other room must have had something to do with the state of him.

"Too baked to deal with that little… catch?"

There was the slightest hint of threat in Clay's words and Tig looked up, picking it up in an instant. He started to shake his head, twisting around to glance back towards the apartment.

"Deal with?"

Clay smirked. "She's a liability, brother. You don't know her, you don't know her shit. She works with the feds." Tig opened his mouth to object but Clay cut him off. "She doesn't owe us anything, all she knows is you shot a guy in front of her."

Tig was shaking his head before Clay even finished speaking, he knew for sure that Shriek wouldn't say a word. "No. No, she's good."

Even though Tig had always been his favourite, Clay wasn't about to let this slide. He picked up the gavel and started to twirl it in his hands, an inadvertent show of his power over the table. "No, she's not. You know who pays her? Those pricks in the DA's office. Justice division. You think she's going to cover your ass? You shot him, Tig. She's going to stick you in Stockton."

"She wouldn't do that." Tig could feel an overwhelming sense of panic beginning to grow within him, he didn't want to be sitting in here, he needed to get back to Shriek. This whole goddamn process must have her freaked out to all hell, and he wanted to be there to try and explain it. "The Doc, she's nice."

He didn't realise the comment would cause such a reaction. The entire table started to laugh as they looked at him. "Nice?" Bobby roared, unable to hide his mirth. "She's _nice?_ "

"I told you," Chibs chuckled. "He's stoned out of his mind."

Clay rolled his eyes, his table felt like a circus and he hated it. He looked towards Happy, pointing at him with the end of the gavel. "Can you sort this shit out for me?"

"No. No, it's fine." Tig screwed his eyes into a tight blink and shook his head, motioning for Happy to lower himself back into his seat. He didn't want Happy involved, he was a shoot-now-and-questions-later kind of guy and that was not what Tig wanted. "I've got leverage, she'll keep her mouth shut."

Clay looked at him expectantly. "You going to share with the group, Tiggy, or is this some private little exchange between the two of you, huh?" When Tig looked like he might not answer, Clay groaned and looked back to Hap. "Go and deal with her."

Tig could feel his heart beginning to beat way too fast in his chest. Maybe it was the weed he had been smoking, maybe it was the genuine panic he was feeling at the threat Clay was posing to Elsie Shriek. Without being able to stop himself, he blurted out,

"Grandma. She's got this grandma. Batty little woman, owns a coffeeshop. Cranford Creek. It's all she cares about." He looked around the table, assuring them. "She'll co-operate, I swear."

Clay grumbled as he brought the gavel down and stood immediately, eager to get out of there. He barged out, bumping Tig's shoulder as he did and growling, "She better, brother."

Tig wiped his hand down his face, unsure of what he had just done. He waited for the others to filter out before he started to make his way through the clubhouse towards the apartment. He knocked briefly and pushed the door open without invite, half-expecting her to be sitting on the bed feeling terrified.

In response, all he got was a genuine shriek. Elsie grabbed the towel she had been using to dry herself and wound it around her quickly, her skin flooding red with embarrassment at him seeing her naked. Tig blinked once, twice, trying to work out whether he had seen what he hoped he had seen, and he broke into a gentle smile.

"Hey. It's okay."

He clicked the door shut behind him and locked it, and Shriek watched him as he prowled into the room. He couldn't take his eyes off her, and he watched as she carefully tried to tug her panties on and hold the towel up at the same time.

"There is a _lot_ that is not okay with today," she said abruptly. "Do you know how much extra paperwork I have to fill in now?"

He almost laughed at that, he loved that proper little Elsie Shriek was so concerned with making sure the paper trail was correct. He scratched his hair and gave her a smile.

"About that." He took a step towards her. "You're not going to, you know-"

"Report you?" She looked at him, incredulous, and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Do you even know what happened? You _killed_ someone. I was a witness." Even as she said it, she realised the implication. "Oh, Christ. You're going to kill me, aren't you?"

Tig laughed, trying to calm her down, and he raised his hands up. "No, I'm not going to hurt you, you know that." She seemed uncertain but, in a show of trust, she turned her back to him and dropped her towel as she did up the clasp of her bra. Tig couldn't help but study her body, her bare back, the perfect curves of the cheeks of her ass. Fuck, he could have had that. "Else-"

"What?"

As she turned around, Tig could see that her eyes were burning with a fire he hadn't seen before. She was scared, genuinely scared, even as she stood there in her purple underwear, trying to reclaim her strength when she had never felt more at a disadvantage. And God, she had never been more like Lex than she was in that moment.

* * *

 _As Tig swung the front door open, all he could see was a total and complete mess. The whole kitchen and living room had been disturbed, chairs knocked over, a vase broken on the floor, photo frames scattered everywhere in a disarray. Alexa was sitting alone at the island, drinking from a large glass of wine, ignoring the chaos around her._

 _"_ _Lex, what the hell?"_

 _As he stepped forward, he could see she was furious. He had never seen her so upset, he was sure of it, and she slipped off her seat and stalked around the kitchen island in nothing more than her little silk nightdress with a temper Tig had never seen before._

 _"_ _Hey!" He caught up with her and snatched her wrist, yanking her towards him and trying to still her for a moment but she wouldn't stop. "What the fuck's going on with you?"_

 _"_ _Where were you?" she demanded. "You were meant to be back hours ago."_

 _As she looked up, he could see her lip had been split. Tig cursed softly as he saw it and tried to press his thumb against it, but she pulled away from him as she moved to put the island between them._

 _"_ _What happened?" he asked quietly. When she didn't answer, he said it again, louder and more firmly now. "Lex. What happened?"_

 _"_ _She came around here!" she snapped, unable to hold back her frustration any longer. "Emma. You were meant to be here, Alex, you…" She whimpered, seeming more angry at herself than anything else now as she leaned back against the fridge. It was cold against her and she closed her eyes, soothed by the chill._

 _"_ _She hit you?" Oh, shit. Emma was a firecracker alright, but Tig had never thought that might happen. God, he didn't even realise that Em knew where Lex lived, let alone… "Jesus. Come here, baby."_

 _Ignoring her resistance, he walked around to her and crushed her into his arms. Lex, usually so strong and firm, crumbled, allowing herself to sob into his chest before she thumped him hard in the arm._

 _"_ _She was so angry, Alex," she whispered into him. "She was swearing about the girls, throwing shit at me. I thought she was really going to hurt me."_

 _Her mood was dissolving and Tig realised that she wasn't angry, she was frightened. He stroked his hand over her hair as he held her close, rocking her softly in his arms, and his lips pressed a kiss onto her temple. "I got held up, I'm so sorry." It was all she needed, she didn't want to hear any more excuses from him, whatever they were. Her arms were limp, like a rag doll, and he cuddled her tightly. "I'd never put you in danger, Lex, you know that."_

* * *

Without a word of warning, Tig suddenly wrapped his arms around Shriek. He was crying, he couldn't stop himself from crying, and he hugged her close to him, squeezing her so tightly that she could barely breathe from the sudden influx of emotion from him. Her fingers tugged at his arm, trying to get him to ease up, but she eventually found it easier just to give in, closing her eyes as he held her.

It was nice, in its own backward sort of way. She had never been held like that, like she was so genuinely and desperately needed. The sensation was strange but fulfilling, and Shriek tried to keep her focus. She should call in what she had seen, without a doubt, but as Tig's fingers tangled with hers, she realised she was in far too deep to be able to do that.

"Tig…"

He nuzzled her, lightly, and his eyes opened wide as he looked at her. "Let me take you home," he offered. "Drive you back. Stay with you tonight, at your place," he added quickly before he thought she might take offence. "Until all this shit with the Mayans has calmed down."

She wanted to say yes instantly but she pulled herself back from him, glancing towards the door. "I don't think your boss would like that. That crabby bitch from before sure won't."

Tig laughed, that was just like Gemma to make friends so easily. "I'll deal with them," he said. His thumb ran along her side, tracing along her waist. "Let me look after you."

* * *

 **A/N - Thank you so much for the comments and feedback and likes and follows, I can't tell you how much I appreciate them!**

 **Following a note from you guys, I will be ramping the next chapter up to a BIG FAT M. Which hopefully gives you a hint to the contents of the next chapter... ;)**

 **And somebody asked about the motorcyclist... You might be right ;) But I promise everything will come out soon...**

 **Sara x**


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